


Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

by BlommaBelle



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dorks, Friendship, Humor, Multi, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Protective!Canada, Smut, The Awesome Trio, Unplanned Pregnancy, so much awesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:11:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 106,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2891588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlommaBelle/pseuds/BlommaBelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Awesome Trio - features the hero America, the Viking Denmark and the awesome Prussia! A series of short stories about their random pranks, acts of debauchery and their general awesomeness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No Rest For The Wicked

If there was one thing about America that a vast majority of people couldn't stand, it was the fact that she was _so loud_. And the only thing people hated more than that was the fact that she got even louder around her friends.

Prussia had long ago dubbed them "the Awesome Trio", stating that they were called such because they were "so damn awesome". England couldn't believe his terrible, terrible luck at seeing his little sister hang around two buffoons like Prussia and Denmark.

But dear God, the _noise_. The three of them were loud enough separately, but together it was like a nightmare. It seemed that they spoke loudly out of necessity because if they used a normal volume, they weren't going to be heard. If they spent enough time with each other in one go, they only got louder and louder until they drove everyone away.

And one day, Russia had had enough. It was one thing if they decided to be loud together where no one else could hear them, but it was a whole different story when they were being unbearably loud right outside his hotel room. No one else had the guts to tell them to shut up—no one smart, anyway, considering if it wasn't Prussia threatening with a sword, it was Denmark reaching for his axe or America twirling a pair of silver pistols in her hands.

But Russia was not afraid of the three imbeciles, and that was why he flung open his door and stepped out into the hall to glare at the three of them.

The scene before him, although inexplicable, was not exactly unexpected. Prussia was standing at the end of the hallway, picking his teeth clean with the end of a dagger with an apple balanced on his head. America and Denmark stood a few feet away, apparently arguing over what would work better—shooting the apple off with a gun or hacking it off with Denmark's axe. Despite the fact that he probably should have been very, _very_ worried, Prussia just looked bored.

"Can ve hurry this up, losers? This is getting very boring very fast." Prussia then spied Russia and made a face. "Ugh, who invited the creep to hang with our awesome selves?"

America and Denmark turned around. The moment they saw Russia, their expressions became similar looks of disdain.

"Gross. What do you want, commie?" America asked, sticking her tongue out at him. Denmark and Prussia snickered at her brashness.

"I want some peace and quiet," he replied flatly. "It's two in the morning. Either take this somewhere else or go to sleep like everyone else!"

The three of them looked at each other for a few moments before looking back at him.

"We talked it over," Denmark said. "And we're going to pass."

"Might I suggest earplugs?" America said smugly.

Russia's hands curled and uncurled into fists a few times before he took a deep breath. "Very well. If that is how you are going to be."

The Awesome Trio frowned as Russia turned without a fight and stepped back into his room. The noise once more escalated, and Russia was fairly certain they were being louder than usual, probably just to annoy him, no doubt.

That was why he was super pissed off the next day. And that was why he went to the store, bought three fish, and then tossed one in the backseat of each of their cars. The meeting lasted all day, which meant that the fish were roasting the whole time in the confined spaces.

The reaction they had was priceless.

"Holy flaming monkey balls of _fire_!" America shrieked, jumping back from her car. "Who the _fuck_ put a fish in my car?!"

England, who had been meaning to carpool with her, backed off a bit, but there was a small smile playing on his face. "Oh, someone decided to mess with your gas guzzler?"

"It's not funny, Arthur!" she wailed. "Do you know what kind of car this is? This is a 1970 Gran Torino GT! I brought this poor baby back to life when someone cruelly attempted to toss it aside like it was nothing but trash! _My baby_!"

With that, America flung herself at her car and clung onto the hood, sobbing apologies for not being there to fight off the "villain" that did this to her "baby".

Prussia and Denmark had seen the display and snorted. Ever the good friends, they decided to pick on her.

"Must suck to have someone mess vith your car right under your nose, huh, _hero_?" Prussia cackled and then yelped as he dodged a baseball America had thrown at his head. "Hey! Vhat gives?"

"Shut the _fuck_ up, Gil!" She stroked the hood of her car and sighed sadly. "My poor baby was practically _molested_ right in front of me and I didn't do anything to help!"

Denmark chuckled and shook his head. He headed for his own car, a very rare, very much so cooler than America's screaming metal deathtrap—a Zenvo ST1. They were rare and limited, and he was _still_ bragging about it. He couldn't even count how many times America had tried to take it for a joyride.

So you can imagine how furious he was when he opened the car door and was hit like a slap in the face by nasty old fish smell.

" _Lort_!" he shouted, jumping back and slamming the door shut. Everyone looked away from where America was wailing over her precious car to see Denmark stomping and cursing up a storm.

The Nordics, who had parked nearby Denmark, all paused and frowned upon hearing the plethora of obscenities that had begun to spill from his mouth.

"Uh… Dane?" Finland asked nervously. "Are you alright?"

" _Nej_ , I am not alright!" he yelled. "Some _forpulede rovhul_ put a fish in my _fucking car_!"

"Oh, Mathias!" A blur of blonde shot over and everyone gaped as America clung onto his black coat. "You poor thing! You, too?"

Instead of shoving her off, Denmark held her close and the two sobbed into each other's shoulders.

Prussia, meanwhile, couldn't stop laughing. "You should see your loser faces! Haha! I'm having such an awesome laugh at this unawesome sight! The mighty Denmark and the hero America, dissolved into unawesome tears all because of… a fish… in their… WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Everyone glanced over curiously at Prussia as he glared into the open door of his car. With a mighty _slam_ , he shut the door and stood there for a few long moments.

"Gilbert?" America peeked up from Denmark's tear-stained shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Prussia stared at his car—his beloved Porsche 911 GT2 that had taken forever for him to steal from his brother—and felt his heart break into a million pieces. Dropping his briefcase, he silently walked over to where America and Denmark were still embracing and then wrapped his arms around both of them.

"It is a dark day for the Awesome Trio," he said quietly.

Everyone rolled their eyes and began piling into their non-fishy cars, leaving the Awesome Trio in the parking lot to be overdramatic by themselves.

Everyone except Russia, who stood near his own car and smirked.

* * *

It didn't take a genius to figure out who had put the fishes in their cars, which was a good thing since the Awesome Trio sort of lacked any geniuses.

"That communist bastard!" America yelled as she took another swig of beer. The three of them sat in a pub in downtown Copenhagen, lamenting their poor cars and drinking copious amounts of alcohol. "I'm going to skin him alive! I'm going to… oh, God. My poor baby!"

"You're not the only victim here, you know!" Denmark whined. "I should shove my axe through his skull!"

"Ve could kill him," Prussia said thoughtfully.

America sighed as Denmark nodded in agreement, but then an idea occurred to her. She grinned deviously and sat up, regarding her friends with a look that promised mischief and debauchery.

The way the Awesome Trio worked was a lot like this: America, being young and untamable, always seemed to have the best ideas when it came to activities for them to do. Her ideas usually ranged from potential bodily harm to themselves or others to pranks that would ban them from other countries for weeks.

Meanwhile, Denmark was the one who actually got them _out_ of trouble. Like America, Denmark took a walk on the wild side and enjoyed taking risks, but considering his older age, he knew how to get away with it. He was instrumental in actually carrying out America's crazy ideas so that they worked to absolute perfection.

Then there was Prussia, their leader. Despite America constantly jockeying for the spot, Prussia held the title of ringleader. He had formed the group, after all, and for the most part it was easier on everyone to just give Prussia what he wanted. He was there to approve the ideas as "awesome" or disapprove of them as "not awesome enough".

The three of them worked together like a well-oiled machine. And when they were pissed at someone—especially when all three of them were pissed at someone—they were even more effective than ever.

"We might not have to kill him," she purred, a nasty smile forming on her face. "But I have an idea that'll make him wish we had."

Both men looked at each other and then at America eagerly. Between sips of beer, she told them her plan. By the end, both of them were in hysterics.

"That may be your most awesome idea yet!" Prussia cackled. "Kesesese~! Tomorrow night, then?"

"Last night of the conference," America agreed. "He thinks I'm a hottie with a body, so I can handle the first part fine. You two need to get everything else ready, okay?"

Clinking their mugs together, they all laughed evilly at their new, diabolical plan. _No one_ messed with the Awesome Trio and got away with it.

* * *

After the meeting the next day, America appeared by Russia. She smiled down at him as he peered up at her curiously, a frown on his face.

"Hey, Russia," she greeted. "What's up?"

 _Not your intelligence_ , he thought to himself, but he gave her a small smile. "Nothing, Amerika. I was just headed back to my hotel room so I could relax for the night."

"Sounds cool." She beamed at him as he stood from his seat. "But I have an even better idea!"

Russia eyed her suspiciously. "What would that be?"

"Well, I was thinking about how me and the guys were behaving the other night and I kinda feel bad." She gave him an apologetic smile. "So I was hoping to take you out for some drinks. Copenhagen's got some seriously awesome pubs!"

Russia shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know…"

"Come _on_!" she whined. "Please?! Pretty please with cheese on top?"

"Ah… very well." Russia rubbed his temples and sighed. "This is very nice of you to offer, Amerika. Will your… _friends_ be joining us?"

"Ah, no." She sighed as they made their way toward the exit. "I know you don't like Prussia at all and Denmark's busy tonight. I guess he promised to chill with the Nordics or something, I dunno. But lucky you, I was free tonight! All the drinks are on me!"

Russia relaxed a little and nodded. He could handle tonight if America wasn't being flanked by her posse of fools.

The night itself wasn't actually that bad. America was, as always, annoying as hell, but the more Russia drank the less obnoxious she became and the more he remembered how attractive she was. By the end of the night, Russia had drank his way through fifteen bottles of vodka and America was sitting on his lap, sipping her nasty whiskey.

The last thing he remembered before blacking out was America smiling at him and asking him if he felt alright.

* * *

"Where is he?" England asked, annoyed. France stood beside him, checking his hair for split ends, while Spain and the Italy siblings were chatting with each other. America, Denmark and Prussia were all talking loudly with each other, laughing about something that let everyone know they were up to no good.

" _Oui_ , it is not like Russia to be late." France frowned and looked at the others. "Does anyone know where he could be?"

After some inexplicable snickering, Denmark said, "Maybe we should go check on him, _ja_?"

"We should," America piped up. She had a conniving glint in her eyes. "We went drinking last night and I'm kind of worried he might have had too much."

"Well, if he was out with you, no doubt alcohol was the only way he could deal with your presence," England said. Both him and France went in the direction of Russia's room.

America pouted at the remark and Denmark gave her a reassuring pat on the back as they followed eagerly, hardly able to contain their excitement at the scene that was going to greet them.

England knocked on the door a few times and frowned when he got no answer. "The git's not even awake yet!"

"I have his key," America said leisurely. England and France eyed her curiously. She sighed. "Like I said, we were drinking last night. He got smashed, so I brought him back to his room. He was way too drunk to find his way to his own bed."

"As long as you weren't in bed _with_ him," England grumbled. France chuckled.

"Like any of you have to worry about that!" Prussia cackled.

Denmark nodded in agreement. " _Ja_ , if Amelia's getting in anyone's bed, it's mine."

Prussia narrowed his red eyes at Denmark. " _Nein_ , she vould get into my awesome bed!"

"I doubt that."

"Vhy vould you doubt such awesomeness? She cannot resist me!"

"She's done a pretty good job so far. It's probably not as difficult as you think it is."

"Shut the fuck up, Dane!"

" _Nej_ , you shut the fuck up! America's only going to sleep with me!"

" _Nein_ , me! If you do anything vith her, I'll do it to you!"

"Right back at you!"

"Before you two engage in any angry boy sex, can I borrow a camera from Japan to get it documented?" America asked eagerly. France had begun to chuckle deviously and was suspiciously unbuttoning his blouse with excitement.

England then decided it was time to jump in before the hallway became one big orgy. "No one is touching Amelia, or I swear I will castrate you where you stand!"

Everyone fell silent as America handed Russia's room key to England. He opened the door and everyone filed in. While the Awesome Trio stifled their laughter, England and France balked.

Russia was, yes, still in bed, and he was obviously naked. A pile of crusty white tissue-like things littered the room and a large black vibrator was hard to miss on the bedside table. The real kicker was the open laptop on his bed that was showing some gay porn.

" _What the bloody hell_?!" England yelped. France, meanwhile, was eyeing the porn with interest. The Awesome Trio kept falling over themselves with laughter.

Russia managed to wake up, groggy, and blinked at the people gathered in his room. "What… what is this? Am I late? I swore I set my alarm…" He fell silent as he took in the room. The time on his clock was two hours behind what it actually was. Russia sat up and immediately zeroed in on the laughing trio.

England shifted awkwardly. "Sorry to, uh, disturb you in your… um… _private time_ , Russia. We were just worried because you were late for the final farewell… uh… sorry."

With that, England ran out. Meanwhile, France was sitting in front of the laptop, watching the gay porn closely.

"Ah, _oui_ , zis man, he is very talented in the ways of _amour_ ," France was saying, nodding his head like a scholarly student. " _Oui, oui_ , I see what he is trying to do. I have done zis myself many times…"

"Gross!" America made a face but was promptly freaked out when she saw Russia rising like a terrifying beast from his bed. She chuckled nervously and tugged on Denmark's sleeve. "Hey, Mathias, Gil, maybe we should, you know…"

"Run like the devil himself is chasing us?" Prussia offered.

"Yeah. That."

The three of them bolted, laughing the whole way. Luckily, America had had the foresight to keep her car running and ready to go. She had managed to air out the fish smell. They dove in and drove off, tires squealing and engine roaring.

They laughed for hours until America found a coffee shop and announced that she wanted some. As they were ordering, she turned to the other two.

"By the way, I would totally bang Mathias," she informed them.

Denmark let out a victorious whoop and pumped his fist in the air. "Is it the axe?"

"It's the axe," she confirmed.

Prussia pouted. " _Verdammt_!"

"Aw, don't be so sad, Gil." America patted his arm. "I'm always open to a threesome."


	2. The Snuggie Debacle

It was the day after Christmas when Denmark and Prussia swung by America's house. She had asked them over to help her get ready for the New Year's party, which was going to be a rager. Like always.

They didn't even bother ringing the doorbell and walked right in. Both of them were immediately assaulted by tackle-hugs from their friend. She gave them both her million-watt grin and then shoved neatly-wrapped presents into their hands.

"Aw, Mia, you shouldn't have!" Denmark said as he tore his open, letting the wrapping paper fall around his feet. If Sve had been there, he would have been quick to swoop in with an open garbage bag to catch the scraps before they hit the carpet.

Prussia, too, tore his open and they both stared at their gifts. They then stared at America.

"Is this for real?" Prussia finally asked, slipping it on. He grinned at the soft fabric and hugged it to himself adorably.

"Hell yes it is!" Denmark let out a whoop. "Aw, look! Mine has Viking ships on it!"

"Mine has awesome beer!"

The two were adorned in Snuggies. They waddled around her living room, wearing their shit-eating grins and babbling about the "best Christmas ever!"

"Mentlegen!" America announced, standing on her coffee table. The two of them turned and grinned at her. Her Snuggie was adorned in red, white and blue stars. "I declare us _more awesome than ever_!"

"Ve aren't taking these off until the day ve die!" Prussia practically roared.

And then the trouble started.

* * *

"Bruder…"

Prussia paused with a piece of wurst halfway to his mouth. He eyed West curiously, not sure why his little brother looked kind of pained. " _Was_?"

Germany shifted a bit, glancing at their bosses and then back at his brother. "Vhy are you vearing that… thing?"

Prussia looked downright offended. He violently took a bite of his wurst and then dropped the fork onto the plate, letting it clatter loudly to emphasize his displeasure. " _Thing_?! This is a _Snuggie_. It vas given to me by a dear friend! Vith boobs! Because she is a girl!"

West looked somewhere between completely frustrated and mortified. "Could you take that off? At least until after ve go over all our business?"

"Take it off? _Take it off_? I made a _vow_ , bruder! A vow in blood! And friendship! And you vant me to spit on such an oath?!" Prussia shook his head and stood up. Seemingly from nowhere, he whipped out a white glove and smacked West across the face with it. "If that is how you feel, bruder, then it vill be fisticuffs at dawn!"

Everyone gaped as Prussia waddled off in his yellow beer-print Snuggie. He was going to call his friends. Maybe they would understand the agony he had been forced to go through because of his selfish little brother.

* * *

"Where is it?" Denmark snapped furiously. He glared at his four Nordic siblings (and Sealand) accusingly, tapping his foot with impatience. "I'm not mad."

"You're not?" Finland asked a bit hesitantly. The Finn was clearly not buying what Denmark was selling. "Because you look furious."

" _Ding-ding-ding_! What did our lucky contestant win for today, Bob?" Denmark narrowed his eyes at them all. "Give me. My Snuggie. Or die."

Suddenly, Norway let out a decisive snort. Everyone turned to stare at him.

Denmark raised an accusing finger. "It was you, wasn't it, you... you... Groke!"

Finland gasped as if this were the worst insult _ever_. Norway looked unmoved.

"You can't prove anything."

Denmark narrowed his eyes. "I'm going to hold my breath until you give it back."

The Nordics all stared at him in disbelief. No one said anything until Denmark's face began to turn red due to lack of oxygen.

"Breathe!" Iceland frowned. "You're killing off brain cells. Lord knows you need as many of those as you can get."

Finland elbowed Iceland. "Be nice! Can't you see he's upset? Come on, Lukas, just give him back his Snuggie."

"No. That thing is ridiculous."

"No one's making you wear it!"

Denmark's face was turning blue. He stubbornly refused to breathe until he got his Snuggie back. And if he died in the process, so be it! _Goodbye, America_! he thought inwardly. _I always thought you were a sexy beast_! _Oh, and... goodbye to you, too, Prussia. I guess._

Fortunately, he passed out before could die. Double fortunately, Finland burst into tears once he fainted and that made Sweden upset, which caused the big nation to intimidate Norway into giving the Snuggie back to Denmark.

"All th't fer a b'ckw'rds robe?" Sweden mumbled, dropping the Snuggie unceremoniously onto Denmark's unconscious body. " _Miffo_."

* * *

England stared at his little sister in total silence. France, who was sitting beside him, also stared. And so did Canada, for that matter.

"Amelia," England finally said. "You haven't taken that off for a _very_ long time. We're all… worried."

"About what?" America let out one of her loud, obnoxious laughs. "These have been the greatest weeks of my life! This Snuggie is comfortable _and_ practical! Plus, look!"

They all watched as America grabbed England's TV remote. She pointed it at the television and turned it on, then off, and then put the remote back. She beamed at everyone, as if she had done something worth bragging about.

"Did you see that? Did you see how I was _still_ covered by my Snuggie even as I was reaching for something else? With a normal blanket, my hands would have been trapped!"

"Now you're just spouting nonsense," England grumped, although France and Canada looked intrigued. "Just take the bloody thing off! It looks ridiculous!"

"You'll take it off of my cold, dead corpse before I take this off willingly," America deadpanned. She gave England a warning look and clung the Snuggie to her person a little more tightly.

England sighed and did nothing. For now.

* * *

The World Meeting. A conference to discuss the world's problems and try to find a way to solve them. Unfortunately, all anyone could talk about was America, Prussia and Denmark and their damnable Snuggies.

"Is it true they won't take them off, aru?" China asked curiously.

Japan sighed and shook his head. "It's true. America-chan came to my house the other day and wouldn't take it off, not even when she went to use the bathroom."

"Is it supposed to be, like, stylish or something?" Poland asked from another part of the room. He was sitting on the table and chatting with Lithuania.

"I'm not sure," Lithuania replied. "But they sure seem… happy in those things."

And it was true. They _did_ look happy. Ridiculously so. When they weren't running their hands over their own Snuggies, they were running their hands over each other's—although Prussia was given a swift punch in the face, followed by a kick in the shins from Denmark and America when he started feeling the latter one up a little bit.

Germany called the meeting to order (after giving the trio a distasteful look) and everyone sat down. England took a seat by America and decided to ignore her and her ridiculous getup.

That proved a bit difficult, however, when she began rubbing her cheek on the fabric. She then let out a long, low moan. And not just any moan, either. A moan that made every single guy in the room turn bright red and stare at her.

_The bloody girl sounds like she's having sex_! England shuddered and glared at her, slightly horrified at the noises his little sister was making. _She can't possibly love that Snuggie THAT much_!

It seemed that she did, however, as she let out another moan, this one a little more breathy and high-pitched.

Germany, who was usually good at handling these things, was speechless. He was staring at America with wide eyes and had begun to sweat. He quickly handed the microphone off to the first speaker with a half-hearted attempt to warn them to keep within the time limit and sat down by Italy, who, for her part, was too busy eating pasta to notice anything strange going on in the meeting.

One more moan and England had had enough. He tore the Snuggie off of the surprised girl and then ran across the room. With a victorious shout, he threw it out the window and watched it land in the parking lot. It was a temporary fix, no doubt, since America would either search the parking lot for her Snuggie or just buy a new one.

He turned to face the American's wrath, but instead he found that her chair was empty. Looking around, he felt himself go cold at what he saw.

America had apparently decided she couldn't live without a Snuggie during the meeting. She had walked over to Denmark and had crawled into his lap, underneath his own ridiculous blanket-wear. Her head rested on his chest and she was cheerfully humming while Denmark looked to be on cloud nine. England was further horrified when Denmark caught his eye and mouthed, _Thank you_.

Great. He had driven his little sister into the lap of someone who was probably going to feel her up throughout the meeting. At least it was better than them knowing what she sounded like in the throes of passion.

Speaking of throes of passion… where the bloody hell was France? And that… other nation? Corsica? Croatia? Or… no…

The doors burst open and everyone paled.

France came in wearing a… great. A pink Snuggie decorated in white roses. He was laughing and spinning a little, seeming to take delight in the way the blanket brushed against his bare (?) legs.

Bare? Why the hell was he… England eyed the person behind him… Canada! That was it! Canada had been missing! And he was wearing a white Snuggie decorated in red maple leaves, looking pleased as punch with his new attire.

" _Amerique_ was right!" France sing-songed, climbing onto the table cheerfully. Everyone paled when they realized he was naked as the day he was born underneath the Snuggie. "The way zis brushes against zee skin! Oh, it is _magnifique_!"

Then France saw America snuggling with Denmark underneath his Snuggie and began to coo about how cute they were.

America grinned at France cheerfully. "Aw, you really like the Snuggie?"

He struck a pose and wiggled his eyebrows. "Of course! I will never take zis off! And _Amerique_ , feel free to cuddle with me underneath _my_ Snuggie. Consider it my… _thank you._ Don't forget to forget your pants! Honononon~!"

An axe was promptly thrown at his head and France was knocked unconscious. He spent the rest of the meeting passed out on the table. But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was that when he woke up, his Snuggie was gone. England had eloquently told everyone that he was "not fucking dealing with this again".

So he had burned the Snuggie. And he made the Awesome Trio watch.


	3. Sharky's Worst Day Ever

The Awesome Trio was originally supposed to be "Men Only". The big problem that Prussia and Denmark had been having, though, while attempting to form the Awesome Trio was the fact that they were struggling to find a new member. Not only was it incredibly hard to find someone who was even half as awesome as either of them, but every time they would approach a lucky candidate, they found find the person entirely uninterested and unwilling to join their gang.

It was getting obnoxious. Which is apparently what America had been called the day she had accidentally walked right into a meeting of the Awesome Trio… uh, duo.

Both men had stared at her in surprise, entirely unused to someone just waltzing into their meeting room. They used an empty room in the building held for World Meetings in London. They had both decided not to meet in Denmark or Germany because they had argued so much about it that it was "destroying their friendship".

But most people knew that the room was for the two of them to connive and figure out who else to invite to their gang. Interruptions were few and far between as a result, but apparently America was either too pissed to remember that the room was in use, or she just forgot.

"Oh." She stopped, spying both of them sitting at the table, gaping at her like they had just seen Bigfoot break down the door. "Sorry. Mind if I use that window over there? It gets me the best angle on my shot. I promise, you won't even know I'm here!"

Prussia hesitated, unsure if he wanted a girl to encroach on their territory. However, Denmark was not having the same problem. Unlike Prussia, Denmark had been friends with America for a while. He even celebrated her birthday at his place because he liked her so much. His Nordic pals had noticed and Finland had even giggled over Denmark's "adorable little crush" on the star-spangled nation. Though Denmark would glare at them all, he never said anything to refute the claim because it was true. He'd never seen a girl wield a battle axe like she did.

"We don't mind!" he said quickly, making Prussia shoot him a dirty look. "Do what you want! It's cool!"

America beamed at him before her face went back to an annoyed glare. Despite her claims that neither of them would even notice her presence, she mumbled to herself as she stalked over the window.

"I _know_ you're going to be here, you vinegar-flavored wimp," she muttered, opening the window. She was leaning over the frame a bit, trying to get a good look at the parking lot. "Call _me_ obnoxious, will you? Ha! Not half as obnoxious as the fuzzy caterpillars that have taken permanent residence above your eyes!"

Prussia and Denmark look at each other, and then back at America as she suddenly reached into her cleavage. Then, like a demented Mary Poppins, she yanked out a ridiculously massive bazooka and took aim.

"Sorry to interrupt," Prussia suddenly said, making America jump. She looked at him, her anger gone and a sweet smile taking its place. "It's just that I couldn't help but notice that you seem to be prepared to shoot someone… England, I'm guessing… vith a bazooka because he called you obnoxious?"

America let out a loud laugh. "Yeah. That, and he guilted me into eating some of his homemade shepherd's pie last night, so I was up blowing chunks and didn't get any sleep."

Both men flinched a little, understanding where she was coming from as she turned her attention back to her weapon.

"I figure I'll feel a little bit better if I put him in the hospital for a little bit," she went on, carefully taking aim. "Alright, I'm about to fire if you guys wanna cover up your ears."

Both Prussia and Denmark did as she instructed. They watched her mouth a countdown. A bright flare of light lit up the area, followed by a loud _boom_ that made the whole building shake. Despite having covered their ears, both men could hear ringing.

America, meanwhile, had set her massive bazooka aside and had her head thrown back, laughing. Someone was screaming profanities in the parking lot loudly enough to be heard indoors.

"Haha, classic!" America wiped a tear from her eye before poking her head out the window and screaming at the top of her lungs. " _SUCK IT, ENGLAND_!"

With that, she shut the window, defied physics by returning the bazooka to her cleavage, blew Prussia and Denmark a kiss and then flounced out, mumbling something about getting out before the British government detained her.

Denmark looked at Prussia. Prussia looked at Denmark. Both men nodded in silent agreement.

They were pretty sure they just found the third member of the Awesome Trio, girl or not.

* * *

America was late for her first Awesome Trio meeting. This was bad, mostly because she was on a probationary trial period.

Prussia was pretty pissed about it, but Denmark was just smitten enough to overlook the fact that she was an hour and a half late. He liked to think she was taking so long because she was trying to look her best for him, although the miniscule rational part of his mind told him that America _never_ tried to look her best if she could help it. In her opinion, brushing her hair in the morning was considered "gussying up", as she put it.

"Seriously, vhat is that bitch doing?" Prussia crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. "This is the most unawesome thing that has ever been my displeasure to vitne—"

The doors flew open and America walked in drenched in salt water. Both men gaped. Denmark was incredibly thrilled, seeing as how her clothes clung to her and became slightly transparent. Prussia was thrilled because she was dragging the corpse of a dead great white shark after her.

" _This is the most awesome thing my eyes have ever seen_!" Prussia slammed his fists on the table and let out a cackling laugh. "America, vhat on Earth are you doing with a dead shark?"

"Dead?" America frowned. "Who said it was dead?"

Prussia fell quiet and took a tentative step away from the shark. The creature seemed to have trained its black eye on him.

"It sucks because I was actually hunting for a colossal squid," she whined. "I was up in the freezing waters of Antarctica looking for one to bring to the meeting so we could eat the world's biggest calamari. I was tailing a sperm whale—"

"Kesesesese~!" Prussia laughed. "You said 'sperm'."

America smirked. "Good one! Anyway, I was trailing a sperm whale but then then I got hungry. So I tried to get this big old tuna that came by and then this bastard showed up and tried to fucking steal it." She was holding the shark by the tail and gave it a shake to show her displeasure. "So we tussled, he lost, the sperm whale got away and the worst part is that the fucking tuna got away, too!"

Prussia and Denmark stared at her in equal parts amusement and fascination (and for Denmark, arousal).

"Are you going to kill the shark, then?" Denmark managed to ask, squirming a bit uncomfortably in his seat. He made a mental note to not stand up until he, uh, _calmed down_ a bit.

"I was just going to tear out one of its fangs as a dominant symbol of my victory," she replied, tapping her chin with her free hand. A small puddle had begun to form underneath her. "Then I was going to release it back into the wild where it could tell all its shark friends to not fucking try to steal my tuna!"

"That's badass," Prussia half-whispered, his red eyes glazed over with admiration. "You're almost as awesome as me! It's settled!"

Prussia slammed his fist down on the table. Denmark was still distracted by the party going on in his pants that only intensified whenever he looked up and saw America dragging the shark around. America turned her attention from taunting the captured shark to whatever it was Prussia was saying.

"America! Henceforth, you are the awesome kickass babe of the Awesome Trio!"

"Aw, sweet!" America jerked the shark up into a hug and bounced around. "Oh, wait, before I forget."

Both men watched her drop the shark and then fearlessly yank its massive jaws open. She reached in, seeming to be deciding something, and then picked a fang to yank out. The shark struggled, but mostly seemed resigned to whatever America had planned for it.

"Ta-da!" She grinned and showed them the fang before pocketing it. "Okay. I'm gonna throw this bastard back into the ocean if you guys wanna come with."

They nodded eagerly and Denmark had to be very creative with covering himself with his black coat to keep either of them from seeing his little friend giving America a salute. Hurrying after her, they rushed pasted a still-charred England and France. Both men watched, flabbergasted, at the sight of America, drenched and toting a shark after her, Prussia whooping at the top of his lungs and Denmark last, walking awkwardly, clinging his coat close to him.

"That's probably the least surprising thing I've seen all week," England commented. France nodded in agreement and they kept walking.

After watching breathlessly as America assumed a pitcher's stance and absolutely hurled the shark out into the ocean, they all agreed to head to America's place to try their hand at riding a mechanical bull.

"You're the champ, America?" Denmark marveled when the bartender greeted her.

She laughed, adjusting her bright blue cowboy boots. "Sure am. And you guys can call me Amelia, by the way."

She then skipped off and climbed onto the bull while Denmark and Prussia watched with rapt attention. As the machine started to go, Prussia glanced at the former Viking with a smirk.

"This is the most awesome decision we have ever made."

Denmark nodded in agreement, his eyes glued to America as the bull began to get more violent. " _Ja_."

Prussia's smirk got a little more evil. "Got a problem going on down south with Little Mathias, huh?"

The blonde's face heated up and he adjusting his coat to keep himself covered. Damn his overactive libido. "Shut the hell up."

Prussia cackled. "Kesesesese~! Lucky you, looks like she's a wild ride!" He pointed at America as she let out a loud _YEE-HAW_ while the fake bull bucked. The other bargoers cheered as the bull slowed and came to a halt. America slid off, grinning as she sauntered back to her friends. She ordered them a round of whiskey and then raised her glass.

"To being awesome!" she announced.

"To being awesome!" the other two echoed. Their glasses clinked together and then America caught Denmark's eye as she gulped her drink down easily.

She smiled.

Denmark blushed.

America winked. "So. I was thinking. Hawaii said the big volcano at her place just exploded. Wanna head down and roast some marshmallows over some lava?"

Prussia and Denmark beamed, both of them incredibly pleased with their decision to let America join. Both of them then checked out her ass when she turned around to order more whiskey.

"Best. Decision. _Ever_ ," Prussia said, a nasty light glinting suddenly in his eyes.

Denmark angrily whacked him upside the head. "Keep your eyes somewhere else."

Prussia just cackled evilly while America turned around, shoving more alcohol at them.

"Were you guys staring at my ass?" she asked in a way that made it obvious that she knew perfectly well that they had been. Both of them looked a little guilty (well, Denmark did, Prussia just looked smug). "Thought so. Keep your hands off the merchandise."

"Or?" Prussia challenged.

America leaned in a little close. "Or I'll have to assume my Ultimate Form."

By the end of the night, all three of them were drunk. Prussia wobbled ahead of Denmark and America, singing a poor rendition of his favorite Carrie Underwood song (he had been very drunk when he'd admitted it).

Meanwhile, America clumsily put an arm around Denmark's shoulders and gave him an intoxicated smile. "Hey, Mathias, 'member when I said no, no, no about geshing… uhm, gerding… getting handsy with the merch?"

" _Ja_." Denmark had long ago given up trying to speak English.

She blushed and Denmark's eyes widened. "Uhm… I dunnit mind if you do it sumtime."

Denmark paused, his alcohol-drenched mind trying to fully understand what she was getting at. America was stumbling off after Prussia, saying something about showing him what a _real_ Louisville Slugger looks like, while Denmark gaped after her.

_Did she just_ …? He grinned. Denmark had a feeling that whatever was going to come of the Awesome Trio, when it came to him and America, something big was going to happen.


	4. Answer The Bone-A-Phone

The Awesome Trio loved making bets. It was their lifeblood. The first bet had been made by America. She had announced that she could be shot by a paintball gun point blank more times than either Prussia or Denmark. That challenge had been accepted, and America had won. Then there was the time that Prussia bet he could fit more M&M's into his mouth than his friends and it was on. The Christmas party at Finland and Sweden's place had ended with Denmark gagging on the green and red chocolate pieces while America danced victoriously, the winner once again. THEN there was the time when Denmark bet he could beat them in an arm-wrestling match. After America had dislocated his wrist and had smashed Prussia's arm so hard into the table that his wrist was "dead" for a week, she declared herself the winner and her friends began to notice a suspicious pattern.

America always won. _Always_. So when she jumped in on a new bet between Prussia and Denmark, they were a little bit leery about agreeing to let her in on it. Especially considering the bet they were placing.

See, Prussia had gotten a little carried away with… _pleasuring_ himself as of late. It was mostly because Hungary was preparing for her annual cat-themed festival and was walking around in adorable cat ears. It hadn't helped when Japan offered her a matching cat tail, and Hungary had been prancing around all week in the thing. Needless to say, Prussia was a little antsy, what with being forced to look and not touch. The last time he'd gotten a little too handsy with poor Hungary he had been put in the hospital for a fortnight.

As a result of Prussia's restlessness in his pants, he had been caught not once, not twice, not even three times by Germany, but seven times. Seven. In the past four days. And that was only what Germany had _caught_. Germany couldn't help walking in on it since Prussia had zero discretion and mostly did as he pleased wherever he saw fit. It had resulted in a lot of unrest and yelling at the German household. Even poor Italy had walked in on Prussia's "private time" (although "private time" was being held in the living room, so it really wasn't Italy's fault that she witnessed such a nightmarish scene). She had ended up locking herself in Germany's room for hours and still wouldn't meet Prussia's eye.

Germany had been furious with Prussia for scarring his poor girlfriend. After giving Prussia the worst lecture/beat-down of the older brother's life, Prussia had sulked off to whine to his friends.

America was running late, as per usual (she claimed showing up on time was "for squares"), and had shot Denmark a text saying she was bringing snacks. Prussia was relieved by this. Despite having no filter, especially when it came to sex, he was sure that Denmark would get it in a way America might not. After all, his Viking friend was currently having the same problem with America.

The bet had begun with Denmark commenting on Prussia's lack of self-control. He had bragged that, despite being subjected to America's "adorableness" on a regular basis (Denmark's idea of adorable apparently included someone who had once screamed "FIVE SECOND RULE!" and dove at a piece of fallen pancake her brother had dropped on the floor during a World Meeting and then ate it voraciously off the ground as if she hadn't eaten in decades), he had massive self-control. No longer was private-time necessary three times a day, he had cut it down to one and a half (although Prussia wasn't really sure what 'a half' of masturbating was).

Prussia took serious offense to that, angered by the idea of someone being better than him at something. He bragged that he, too, could abstain himself from his happy fun time, and thus, the bet was made just as America walked in, pushing a shopping cart filled with Twinkies.

"Oh, what's the bet?" She grinned at them eagerly before tossing them each their own box of Twinkies and sat on the tabletop by Denmark, ripping open her own incredibly unhealthy cream-cake snack. "I want in!"

Both men looked at each other uncertainly, not sure if they wanted to bring up masturbation with America. Knowing her, she would launch into a full-detailed analysis on what _she_ did…

Denmark felt his face heat up and his eyes widen. His mouth fell open and a tiny bit of Twinkie fell out, plopping into his lap. Visions of America in the throes of passion was already making him a bit nervous that he was going to lose his bet with Prussia already.

America gasped. "Oh, my God! Your Twinkie! Five second rule, Mathias! Get it!"

He ignored that and stood up so that his face hovered right in front of hers. "MASTURBATION."

The room filled with silence. America leaned back, her pretty blue eyes narrowed a bit. After a moment, she calmly took a bite of her Twinkie and chewed on it thoughtfully.

"So… that happened," she finally said, not bothering to shove Denmark away from her as she continued to eat. "Mind telling me what your guys' bet has to do with jerking your baloney ponies?"

Denmark continued to hover there, red-faced and sweaty, while Prussia sighed dramatically.

"Dane and I awesomely bet that ve could outlast each other by abstaining from… you know."

"Oh." America took another bite of her Twinkie. "So you two think you can go without getting all ding-dong McDork longer than the other? Sounds like fun! I'm in!"

Denmark blinked and stood back. "Hey. That's not fair."

"Why not?"

"Vell… you're a girl!" Prussia explained slowly. America narrowed her eyes and he quickened his explanation. "It's just that you don't need to take care of business as often as a dude. You'd have an unfair advantage!"

"Ha!" America threw her head back and laughed loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls before she calmed herself and shook her head. "You honestly think girls don't do jazzy hands as much as guys? What kind of world are you two living in?!"

Prussia looked intrigued while Denmark quickly sat down, his face burning as his mind reeled. Oh, God. He was going to lose if she kept talking like that.

"I. Want. In." Her tone was final. "And don't you dare say I can't because I'm a chick. You dildos know perfectly well that I have more balls than fucking Chuck Norris."

"Fine," Prussia groused. They all shook on it and quickly struck up friendly conversation, mostly about the party England was throwing in three days.

* * *

Denmark thought it was a miracle he had made it for so long. He sort of wanted to brag about it, but he figured Sve wouldn't appreciate it if he called to announce that he hadn't "drained the dragon" in three days.

Mostly, he thought it had to do with not seeing America for that time. While it wasn't exactly fun for him to not hang out with her, it was easier for him to deal with their bet.

He whistled as he and the rest of the Nordics got to England's place. Denmark had insisted on taking his axe with him "just in case" (though mostly that was just in case he saw fucking Australia hitting on America _again_ ). The five of them were ushered into England's manor and began to mingle.

Denmark immediately found America and Prussia sitting on England's fancy pink sofa that was covered by a blanket the Englishman had no doubt made himself. Denmark then paused in the hallway outside of the room, smiling at pictures of colonial America that decorated the walls. Some of them had some guy who looked kind of like America that Denmark thought was faintly familiar, but he couldn't put a name with the face. He kept walking and plopped down beside America, who was tensely sipping at a glass of champagne. She turned a bit red when she saw him and discreetly scooted away a bit, crossing her legs uncomfortably.

Prussia, too, looked a bit on edge, though he seemed more pissed than uncomfortable. He was downing beer like there was no tomorrow and didn't bother acknowledging the Dane when he sat down.

Denmark turned his head and met America's eyes. She stared at him, her face flushed as he smirked.

" _Hej_ , Mia, what's—"

"I GIVE UP!" America shot up from where she sat, shoved the glass of champagne at Denmark and started to hurry toward the bathroom.

"Wait… what?" Denmark frowned, a little concerned. "Mia, you okay?"

"I LOSE!" She whipped around and stomped her foot. "God, you just _had_ to come in here with your shirt on like that and your _face_ …"

"What about my face?" Denmark's eyebrows wrinkled.

"And the real kicker was the _goddamn motherfucking axe_! Who the _fuck_ brings a sexy-ass axe to a _fucking party_?! SABOTAGE! SAH-BOW-TAGE!" America practically screamed, making everyone sort of glance over at her warily. America's freak-outs were not to be scoffed at—back in the day, these temper tantrums usually ended in threats of nuclear war. She quickly spun on her heel and continued to hurry toward the bathroom.

"Vait!" Prussia called, standing a bit shakily. "Vhere are you going?"

America looked _really_ pissed now. She whirled around once more, just outside the bathroom door. "I'm going to ride the great white knuckles! I'm going to tame the wild hog! I'm going to stir the soup! I'm going white water wristing! I'm going to _tickle Elmo_!"

Her voice rose with every proclamation until she ran out of breath. She took in the sight of the party room briefly. England had fainted, France looked giddy, Canada was mortified, Germany was bright red while Italy asked him what America was talking about, Lovina looked ready to storm out while Spain muttered scandalized whispers under his breath in Spanish gibberish. The rest of the partygoers looked mortified and uncomfortable. When America walked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, conversation slowly started up again.

Denmark and Prussia looked at each other, at a loss for words. Suddenly, Prussia put down his beer and undid his pants as he walked off to find someplace at least semi-private (he would have just taken care of business right there, but after Germany had decked him the last time he had whipped out his awesome one-eyed wonder worm without considering the fact that there were other people around, he was a bit leery about indiscriminately masturbating wherever he wanted).

A few seconds passed. Denmark kind of sat there, trying to comprehend what had happened. If he wasn't mistaken, the very sight of him carrying an axe around had driven America mad with passion.

Well. _That_ was certainly interesting. He mulled over what could possibly happen if he showed up at her place in his old Viking clothes when he realized that he had won. And that meant he, too, could take care of business. Grinning, he gripped his axe (you never knew who might try to steal it) and headed toward the bathroom, wondering if America was anywhere near done. That's when the bathroom door opened and America stepped out, looking very, _very_ pleased.

"Well, suck me sideways, I feel much better!" she chirped. She then spied Denmark standing right outside the bathroom door, smirking with his axe slung over his shoulder. He gave her a cheeky wink. They then stared at each other for a few long moments in silence before America sighed. "Dammit. Excuse me. Looks like round two is a go." She then slowly closed the door and clicked the lock in place.

Denmark grinned and stepped back. He couldn't say he blamed America. He was fucking sexy as hell.


	5. The Katy Perry Treatment

The Awesome Trio had gathered together at America's bequest at her place. Last week she had been telling them about the "best motherfucking blanket-fort" she'd ever made, but upon seeing their blank looks, she had loudly lamented their "wasted" childhoods and then told them to come to her place in a few days.

It turned out that America had been sort of right. Building a blanket-fort proved to be a lot of fun. She had taken all the cushions off of her furniture and had even dragged a few chairs from her dining room into the living room. Piles upon piles of American-themed blankets had been brought down from her room and she had instructed the boys on various ways to make a ridiculously cool blanket-fort.

The result had been more than awesome, as was befitting of the Awesome Trio. America had then sent Prussia out for an alcohol run, had grabbed three flashlights and some extra Snuggies and had turned off all the lights. It was late at her place by now so she had offered to let Denmark and Prussia just crash there. In the blanket-fort, of course.

They were all in their new fort, the only light being offered was that of the flashlights. Occasionally Prussia would point his right in Denmark or America's face and find himself on the receiving end of a punch.

If there's one thing about slumber parties that is very, very true, it is that things you didn't know about someone end up coming to light. And considering the lack of filter all three of them had, a lot of things were talked about. For example, Prussia informed them that Hungary had used to think she was a boy and that her dangly-bits would grow in later on. Denmark then offered up information that Sweden and Finland totally had sex while listening to ABBA.

America was about to chime in on the divulging of other people's secrets when her phone went off, a familiar, catchy tune sounding out.

" _I kissed a girl and I liked it_ …"

Smiling, America toyed with the screen of her phone and then answered. "'Sup?" Pause. "Oh! Hey, Feli! What's up?" Another pause, followed by a squeal of delight. " _Fuck_ yes I want some! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" America was bouncing where she sat. "Alright! See ya!"

After she hung up, she gave Denmark and Prussia a thumbs-up. "Guess who gets some of Italy's leftover lasagna? This bitch!" She whooped loudly and Denmark couldn't help but sigh. She was wearing footie pajamas, and as it turned out, the very sight was so adorable that Denmark was fairly certain that his brain wasn't really functioning right anymore.

"Say, vhy is 'I Kissed A Girl' your ringtone for Feliciana?" Prussia suddenly asked.

America was notorious for customizing her ringtones for all the nations. For example, whenever France called, 'I Feel Pretty' chimed on her phone. For Russia, she had assigned Radiohead's 'Creep' and for Sweden, she had given 'Dancing Queen' (which was apparently the very song that Sweden and Finland had sex to the most). Every person was given a ringtone for one reason or another, and it always fit their personality.

So when Prussia brought that question up, Denmark suddenly found himself interested as well. America wouldn't just give Italy that ringtone for no reason at all.

"You seriously don't remember?" America cocked her head to the side and let out a low whistle. "You don't remember France's Valentine's Day party last year?" Upon seeing their blank looks, she snapped her fingers, as if realizing something. "That's right! You two were seriously _wasted_."

"So vere you," Prussia pointed out.

"Yeah, but I remembered what happened, like, a week later. And Italy wasn't drunk, so she definitely remembered." America laughed. "I was in on a game of 'Spin-the-Bottle', and it landed on Italy, so I kissed her."

"You _kissed_ her?" Denmark looked like he had just crapped his pants. He wasn't sure if he should be really thrilled or really jealous.

"Vith tongue?!" Prussia cut in eagerly.

"Is that really important?" America ignored his eager nodding. "The point is that I totally had a lesbian experience with Italy! So that's why she got the Katy Perry ringtone."

Denmark was taking large swigs of his beer while Prussia shook his head, disappointed.

"It's not a real lesbian experience if there vas no tongue," Prussia said. "Plus, you vere drunk. It doesn't count if you vere drunk."

"And why not?"

"Because you'd do almost anything vhile you're drunk," Prussia explained. "Hell, if I vas drunk enough, I'd probably kiss Dane."

"You wish," Denmark grumbled around another gulp of beer.

"Yeah, when you got super drunk two years ago, you kissed my brother," America said, tapping her chin in thought. "You might have a point."

" _Might_? I _do_ have a point!" Prussia shook his head. "Plus, it was during a game of spin-the-bottle, not a real-life situation. You did it because of a game, not because of real choice. So it doesn't count."

A really thoughtful look came over America's face and Prussia then decided to change the subject to some story about Gilbird taking a dump on Austria's head.

* * *

The next World Meeting was being held in Berlin. America, for once, had arrived on time and was chatting with Japan when Denmark walked in with the other Nordics. She glanced up and gave him a small nod, but then her focus zeroed in on something behind him. Denmark turned his head and spotted Russia walking in, trailed by his sisters and the Baltics. Her eyes followed them until they sat down—Belarus beside her brother, as always, with Lithuania nearly throwing himself on the seat on her other side—and then she abruptly excused herself and walked over to them, calm-as-you-please.

Meanwhile, Prussia was standing near the front door with his brother, greeting everyone that walked in. He was listening to Germany have some cookie-cutter small-talk with Austria when an eerie hush fell over the room. The brothers looked around and saw exactly what was going on.

America had walked over to where Russia and the others were sitting. Expecting her to have come over to pick a fight with him, Russia had turned to address her, only to be ignored. America had immediately zeroed in on Belarus and had hovered behind her chair until the young woman noticed her.

"What?" Belarus has snapped. And just like that, America had leaned down and pressed her lips against hers.

And, from where Prussia was standing, it looked like America was using tongue.

Finally, America pulled away, gave Belarus a sweet smile and then gave Denmark and Prussia a thumbs-up before she skipped back over to Japan, who was suffering a sudden violent nosebleed.

Belarus, for her part, looked like she wasn't sure if she should stab America to death, stab Denmark and Prussia (who, from her standpoint, looked like the instigators of the sudden kiss) or frantically tell her brother that the kiss meant nothing and it was just America being America.

Finally, she decided to throw a knife in America's direction. America dodged it and then found herself being chased, slasher-movie style, right out of the conference room by Belarus. Eventually, Russia, Denmark and Prussia managed to get Belarus to calm down and brought both girls back into the meeting, which, obviously, did not go very smoothly, considering everyone was waiting for Belarus to attack America or for America to suddenly throw herself over at Belarus for another make-out session. The subject was again breached by Italy during lunch break.

"Ve~ why did Belarus get mad?" Italy smiled. "America's a wonderful kisser!"

Germany had begun to choke on the pasta Italy had given him in shock. While she fretted over him, Denmark, who had overheard, glanced over at Belarus, expecting her to be staring at America with murderous rage.

Belarus definitely was staring at America, as Denmark had suspected she would. But it wasn't with murderous rage. It was more… well, it was definitely creepy. In fact, it was… oh, no. Oh, _fuck_ no.

That looked like the way she stared at Russia.

Well, shit.

* * *

About three weeks later, America was chilling at Denmark's place. She was playing Poker with him (and thoroughly kicking his ass) when her phone went off.

" _Me so horny, me love you long time_ …"

"'Me So Horny'?" Denmark felt panic spike in his gut.

"I know, right!" America beamed. "Whatever happened to 2 Live Crew?"

"Who's calling?!"

America just smirked and then pressed the phone against her ear. "Hey, Belarus, long time no see."

Denmark frowned. _Well, at least it's not fucking Australia. That kangaroo bastard._

After a short chat in which America promised they would hang out soon, she hung up and immediately focused back on their game. "Okay, where were we…?"

Denmark, however, was more focused on other things. "Hey, out of curiosity, what's my ringtone for when I call you?"

"Call me and find out." America smirked.

He did so and waited a little nervously. Then he heard it and felt a smug smile stretch out over his face.

" _I'm sexy and I know it_ …"

Well. In his not-so-humble opinion, that ringtone was perfect.


	6. Round One Goes to Kyle the Koala

"Oh. My. God!" America's voice was loud enough to shatter eardrums. She was bouncing as they walked into the restaurant, clapping her hands together like an eager seal. "I'm about to eat hamburgers in _Hamburg_!"

She bounded inside the building as Denmark held the door open for her. When Prussia attempted to follow, Denmark shoved him out of the way and let go of the door so it smashed the albino a bit. Prussia grumbled and smacked Denmark upside the head as he followed after them, but the Dane was too distracted by America practically hyperventilating from excitement right in front of him.

The trio was sat down and none of them seemed to care about the strange looks America was receiving for her theatrics.

"You guys _rock_ for taking me here!" she announced, guzzling down some beer. She looked at them both, a big smile on her face. "Seriously. You two are the best friends I could ask for!" She paused and tapped her chin, thinking. "You know, besides Japan. And England, I guess, but he's more like my annoying, overprotective brother."

Denmark probably would have been incredibly jealous of Japan and England for America considering them her "best friends", but he just smiled, unconcerned. England was, like she said, more of a nagging big brother to her. He had been jealous of Japan once upon a time, but he had been invited to hang out with them at Japan's place to play some new videogames of his that had come out once. After seeing how hopelessly in the friendzone America had placed him in, Denmark's jealously gave way to a mostly unjustified smugness whenever he was mentioned in conversation. His particular favorite was…

"So, has Japan asked you to go on a date yet?" Denmark asked casually, raising a wolfish eyebrow at America. She rolled her eyes.

"Please. Kiku's my homeboy. He's… well, he's kind of like my brother, too!"

* * *

Somewhere at that exact moment in a busy district of Tokyo, Japan froze, his eyebrows furrowing as a shiver ran through his body. He had a feeling he should be very, very depressed right then, but he couldn't figure out why.

* * *

Denmark smirked at her response. Yeah. He liked hearing that.

"Oh, and there's Australia."

Prussia snorted, unimpressed. "That unawesome kangaroo nutjob? Jesus. I don't know how you can stand him. All he does is talk about wrestling crocodiles and he's alvways molesting that damn boomerang—"

"The boomerang is sexy!" America sighed and flicked a stray blonde curl out of her eyes. "And he's real funny. He's like England, but cooler, and… Woah. Mathias, you okay? You look like you're gonna try to do something crazy, like blow up the moon or something."

Sure enough, Denmark had an aura about him that promised bloodshed to the next moron who stepped a toe out of line around him. He hadn't felt this sort of bloodlust since the Viking days.

He'd had his suspicions about that damn Aussie for a while. At first, he had let the little comments from that guy slip. He could hardly blame other countries for flirting with America because she was _awesome_ , but over Christmas, Australia's present had been a free round-trip to his house where they had spent the whole time "running with a pack of dingoes", according to America, who said it was the most fun month she'd spent in her entire life (the highlight of it being when she had apparently asserted herself as the alpha). Neither Denmark nor Prussia had seen America during that time at all, and when she returned, she had been almost feral. She was also suspiciously good at throwing a boomerang.

It wasn't like Denmark was surprised someone else was chasing after her. He just didn't think anyone would be stupid enough to do it so _blatantly_ when it was obvious that _he_ had his sights on her. It was common knowledge that you did _not_ anger any of the ex-Vikings. In fact, Prussia had learned that recently when he'd made the dire mistake of flirting with Finland. Sweden, of course, had heard and the result had been Prussia being put into a hospital for nearly a month. And that was just for innocent _flirting_. Had Prussia been serious in his pursuit, Denmark had little doubt his friend would be six feet under.

"I'm fine," Denmark managed to hiss through his clenched teeth. His fingers twitched for his axe. He would have liked nothing more than to run over to that bastard's house and crack his skull open as a warning to stay the fuck away from America. But he had a feeling America would not be too happy with that.

Judging by her expression—and Prussia's amused smirk—Denmark was not being very convincing. So he decided to distract him.

"Food's coming!" He pointed at the wait staff that was walking over, trays filled with their plethora of food.

"FUCK YES!" America started bouncing in her seat again. She grabbed Denmark's arm eagerly. "Is anyone else getting wet?!"

Denmark turned bright red and Prussia cackled. Just as they were all about to dig in, a cheerful voice interrupted.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the loveliest Sheila my eyes have ever seen!"

Well, speak of the Devil and the Devil shall come. Denmark cringed and felt his death glare fall into place. Sure, it wasn't as terrifying as Sweden's, but it did its job… usually. It apparently didn't work on idiots who spent more time hanging out with koalas than actual people.

Oh, and Australia had a koala hanging off of him.

"Hey, Jack!" America chirped. She looked ready to dig into her hamburger when she spotted the koala on him and her eyes widened. She stood up quietly and then stood, hovering merely centimeters from Australia, before she looked him in the eye. A huge smile came over her face and she screamed at the top of her lungs at such a high pitch that Denmark was pretty sure only dogs could hear it. "OH MY GOD LOOK AT THAT THING IT'S SO CUTE I CAN'T EVEN FUNCTION HELP ME OH GOD IT'S SO CUTE GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMMMMMMMEEEEEEEE!"

With that, she snatched the koala off of Australia and hugged it to her. The koala just sort of stared at her, uncaring, before it wrapped its arms around her neck and snuggled in. America looked ready to faint as she kept going on and on about its cuteness.

Denmark glared at his plate of food, his murderous impulses barely being kept at bay. If he had known bringing cute baby animals to America would make her so happy, he would have given her enough cute, fuzzy baby animals to fill a fucking petting zoo.

"That's Kyle," Australia said, and then he seemed to notice Denmark and Prussia glaring at him. "Ah, g'day, mates!"

"Fuck off," Prussia snapped.

It was pretty well-known that Prussia and Denmark were territorial. In recent times, Australia had been taking up more and more of America's attention, and neither of them were too into that: Denmark because he was the jealous type and didn't like watching some arrogant bastard other than himself trying to impress America and Prussia simply because he kind of liked being a dick, and also because he had heard tell that Australia was "super awesome" and felt the need to defend his title.

Australia was not put off by Prussia's nasty remark and simply laughed good-naturedly before he turned his attention to Denmark briefly. He smirked a little and then looked at Kyle the Koala hanging off of America.

Denmark got the message loud and clear. _Look, she likes my koala. Round one goes to me, fucker_.

Well, fine. So Denmark didn't have any spare bear cubs on him at the moment. But that didn't mean he couldn't be sexy.

Standing up, he pulled his axe up from where it was resting against the table and then grinned when he caught America's attention. She watched, entranced, as he tested the sharpness of his blade and then gave her his typical cocky smirk.

"Huh. I might have to sharpen the blade soon." Denmark sighed. "You know, I used this axe in more wars than I can remember. Been told the look of bloodlust in my eyes is nearly indescribably terrifying on a battlefield."

America stared at him, panting a little bit and Denmark slid his gaze smugly to Australia. Sure, the Aussie could play up cuteness, but Denmark could do sexy like it was no one's business.

"That's neat, mate," Australia said, faking his cheerfulness. "Just last week I had a bit of a scuffle with one of the animals at my place."

"Oh, yeah?" Prussia snorted. "Did you have to go see a man about a wallaby?"

"No, mate. I wrestled me a croc."

America gasped, her gaze now torn away from Denmark, who was seductively still checking his blade's sharpness, and gaped at Australia. "You wrestled a crocodile?!"

"Sure did."

"Wow!" America pouted. "I've only wrestled sharks and bears and wolves and pythons! I've never wrestled a crocodile before!"

"You must lead a really hard life," Prussia said dryly. Of course, the sarcasm flew right over her head and she nodded forlornly.

"You're welcome to my place anytime," Australia offered cheerfully. "Got plenty of crocs for you to wrestle."

"Can I keep one?"

The Aussie looked a little surprised by the request, but he shrugged. "Don't see why you would want to, but sure."

" _Pfft_ , don't see why I would want to… you're funny!" America punched Australia's arm none-too-gently, causing him to wince a bit while Denmark smirked at his pain. "Anyhoo, what are you doing in Hamburg?"

"Ah! New Zealand and I were supposed to be having a meeting with Germany." He motioned toward a table over on the other side of the restaurant where, sure enough, Germany and New Zealand were sitting, chatting with each other. "Trade stuff, you know. We're waiting on Philippines."

"Cool," Prussia cut in. "And by cool I mean so unawesome I might cry. Beat it."

Australia laughed again before he took out his boomerang and handed it to America reverently. "Here, hold onto this until you come visit me. Don't take too long, though, I love my boomerang."

Denmark's eyes narrowed and Prussia rolled his eyes, mumbling something nasty in German under his breath. America blushed a little and then nodded, holding the boomerang against her chest as Australia said his goodbyes and then left. She sat down, grinning, and then dug into her food, unaware of Denmark losing his shit while Prussia looked annoyed.

"I hate that fucker!" Denmark finally snapped. America raised an eyebrow and Prussia made a noise of agreement. "I don't know why you hang out with him!"

"Oh, because last time I took you guys on an adventure to find Megalodon, you both cried about the water pressure being too much for you to handle," she explained. "He's into adventure like that. You guys are warriors, not adventurers. I'm a warrior _and_ an adventurer. So I need regular doses of both."

"I didn't cry," Prussia mumbled.

"Aw, Mathias!" America giggled as he pouted at the tabletop. "Are you jelly?"

He didn't reply.

America giggled and leaned over so that her lips brushed over his ear. He shuddered as she whispered, "You've got nothing to be jealous of."

Denmark gaped at her, his jealous depression forgotten as America eye-raped her burger before she shoved it into her mouth.

He then snickered to himself as he took a bite of his own meal. _Suck on that, Australia_.


	7. Birds Can Be Perverts, Too

"Gilbird, you awesome feathery bastard, come get your food!"

There was no reply outside of America and Denmark talking animatedly about the latest _Walking Dead_ episode in the living area. Germany was upstairs, finishing some paperwork and hiding from Prussia's obnoxious friends in hopes that they would mercifully vacate the premises soon. Prussia, meanwhile, was in the kitchen, having just filled up a tiny bowl of bird seed for Gilbird to eat.

While Gilbird loved eating more than he loved most things, he had yet to show up. Usually he was already eating before Prussia even finished announcing that it was time to eat.

So where the hell was that bird?

Trying his best not to get worried about his little buddy, he called out again. "Gilbird? Vhere are you? Food's ready!"

He listened closely for the telltale sound of flapping wings, but nothing happened. America and Denmark's conversation had become a big monologue of America lecturing Denmark on why Cleopatra wouldn't be able to beat Susan B. Anthony in a fistfight.

"Hey, losers," Prussia said, hoping to keep his tone neutral as he poked his head into the living area. "Have you seen Gilbird anywhere?"

America stopped mid-rant and frowned. "Yeah, he's napping."

"Vhere?"

Her face turned bright red and she cleared her throat. "Uh…"

Prussia stepped into the room and crossed his arms over his chest. "Vhat did you do to Gilbird?"

"Nothing!" America replied quickly. She swallowed nervously and wrung her hands together. "It's just… kinda embarrassing."

Both Prussia and Denmark looked beyond surprised. Typically, America never had the presence of mind to be embarrassed about anything, not even the time she had walked in on Prussia and Denmark attempting to watch porn together. Instead of turning bright red and running off, full of apologies, she had simply asked them if they were up to watching _Creeping Terror_ with her later ("It's about ghost bugs! Scary, huh?!") and had simply sat between them and patiently waited for the porn to end, even going so far as to comment on it ("Psh, doesn't it look like he's trying really hard not to fart? Haha!").

So if America found something embarrassing, it was no doubt bad. Or, who knew, maybe it was nothing.

"Tell me vhere he is," Prussia said darkly.

America blushed (which made Denmark blush because she looked so cute) and opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by the sound of a chirp.

Not just any chirp. Gilbird's chirp. Prussia would recognize it anywhere.

America's mouth snapped shut and her face turned even redder as her albino friend approached slowly, tilting his head to listen. America opened her mouth once again, and once again, before she could speak she was interrupted by Gilbird's chirp, louder this time.

" _Mein Gott_!" Prussia launched himself at America. She shrieked as he began to try to pry her mouth open. "Did you eat Gilbird, you bitch?! Let him out! _Let him out_!"

America punched Prussia hard enough in the stomach to send him flying across the room. He landed, sprawled on his back, as America sat up and smoothed down her hair, her expression that of obvious annoyance. Denmark, meanwhile, was glaring at Prussia so hard that the ex-nation was surprised he didn't just burst into flames from the sheer, angry force of it.

"I didn't eat your fucking bird, dipshit!" America snapped. "Your bird is an even bigger pervert than you!"

Prussia sat up, groaning, and frowned, not sure what America was getting at. Suddenly, there was another chirping sound and Prussia stood, walking over with his hands raised in a conciliatory manner to show that he wasn't coming over to force America to puke up the bird he was still kind of convinced she had eaten.

The chirping was getting louder and America was blushing so hard that, had Spain been there, he would have easily compared her to a tomato. Prussia listened closely while Denmark watched like a hawk to make sure Prussia kept his hands to himself.

Suddenly, Prussia paused right over America's cleavage and raised an eyebrow. America groaned and looked away, pouting.

"Did he…?"

"Yeah. He did."

Prussia threw his head back in hysterics and shook his head. "Kesesese~! That bastard!"

"He's definitely _your_ bird," America replied dryly.

Denmark was officially lost, but he didn't like any of the implications going on. "The fuck is your bird doing to Mia, Gil?"

"He made a little nest in her boobs, that's vhat!" Prussia laughed again while Denmark pursed his lips, trying to decide whether it was worth it to be angry at a pervy bird. Once Prussia calmed down, he snapped his fingers. "Alright, Gilbird, you've had your fun feeling the babe up. Come on out for your dinner."

Prussia was met with a chirp, but the bird didn't leave America's cleavage. In fact, America sighed. "It feels like he shook his head. Oh, and he burrowed in a little lower."

"That shithead." Prussia leaned in closer so that he was hovering inches above her boobs. " _Komm her_!"

Someone cleared their throat. Everyone looked over and saw Germany frowning at the sight before him—America, sitting on the sofa, looking annoyed; Denmark, sitting beside her a looking pissed and Prussia leaning over America's boobs and yelling in German.

Needless to say, he'd walked into stranger, but still. Without another word, Germany muttered something under his breath and then told them he was headed to Italy for a while. With that, he left.

"Oh, great!" Prussia rolled his red eyes and turned his attention back to the task of getting Gilbird out of America's bra. "Now _mein bruder_ thinks I'm some kind of pervert!"

"Pretty sure he already knew you were." Denmark smirked as Prussia began to sputter, feigning being offended.

"Shut up!" Prussia went back to work, screaming at America's boobs. "This is so unawesome of you, Gilbird! I know it's probably warm and comfy! Believe me, you're living the dream in there, but you can't stay forever!"

Gilbird apparently thought differently because he simply chirped and stayed where he was.

"Alright, that's it!" Prussia rolled up his sleeve, his expression determined. "You're coming out of there, Gilbird!"

"Hey," America said uneasily. "What are you—"

Then Prussia plunged his hand into her shirt and began to rifle around, his expression almost comically focused. America gasped and sat there, stock still in total shock as she tried to process that yes, this was happening.

"I think I found him…" Prussia grinned and grabbed something before giving America a lecherous smile. "Haha, so your boobs _are_ real!"

Prussia had either just proved that he was the stupidest being on the face of the planet, or he had had a serious lapse in good judgment, because he forgot, in that instant, that Denmark was watching. With his axe.

He remembered it, however, when Prussia pulled Gilbird out of America's shirt and stepped away just as Denmark had swung his weapon, narrowly missing Prussia. The axe embedded itself in the floorboards with a loud, terrifying _SLAM_ , and when Prussia looked into Denmark's eyes, he swore he had never felt the fear of God in him until that moment. Gilbird, unaware of the massive, possibly-deadly problem he had just caused for his friend, flew off to eat.

As Denmark ran Prussia out of the house, America still sat on the sofa, frowning. Silently, she stood up after really processing everything and walked into the kitchen. She yanked Gilbird unceremoniously away from his food, earning an angry screech from the bird as she walked outside. She quietly watched Prussia being chased by Denmark before she calmly jogged over, yelling for their attention.

Denmark paused, mid-swing, and Prussia blinked from where he lay on the ground in terror, his life already flashing before his eyes. America was towering over him now, frowning, and he wasn't sure if he should be relieved that he had been spared by Denmark or terrified that he now had to face America.

"Stand up," she snapped. Prussia did as he was told, shaking under the joint blue-eyed glare of his blonde friends. He tried not to imagine the various ways they would kill him. Would America hold Prussia down while Denmark chopped him up? Or would Denmark take pictures and upload them onto Facebook while America shoved him off a cliff?

But America did something he didn't expect. Without a single word, she grabbed the waistband of his pants, yanked them open, and just when he was sincerely hoping she was about to make a grab for his nuts in retaliation for rummaging around in her boobs, she shoved a very angry, very hungry Gilbird down his pants and then walked off, mumbling about going home to take a million showers.

Denmark smirked as Prussia squirmed with discomfort and then pointed at him with his axe. "Consider yourself lucky, fucker."


	8. So, Who's Sticking It In Who?

The Awesome Trio had gathered in Berlin, and after consuming enough beer that would have killed any normal person, they were all just buzzed enough to become a little something called "honest drunk".

Each of them reacted very differently to consuming quantities of alcohol. In Prussia's case, his personality simply seemed to become amplified. Where he was loud and obnoxious under normal circumstances, while he was under the influence of alcohol, he was even louder and more obnoxious. He tended to like starting barfights with people he could never hope to beat and try to hit on girls who were less than interested.

Then there was America, who tended to become clingy and über-nice whenever she got shit-faced. She tended to tell people all about her feelings, as well as her whole life story, and was known for her ridiculous one-liners and her tendency to latch onto one person at the bar and harass them all night about how she wanted to be friends once she was sober because "she wasn't usually like this".

Last, and certainly not least, was Denmark, who became sort of like the fun frat guy who liked to dance and hit on anything that moved. He enjoyed yelling out, "SHOTS!" at the top of his lungs and playing beer-drinking games. America had made the grave mistake of teaching him beer pong and that was all he wanted to do anytime they went out drinking for months.

All three of them were well on their way to blackout-drunk, but before they got there, they were hitting their soul-baring part of the night. Someone usually ended up in tears, and it looked like tonight was Denmark's turn.

He was crying into America's shoulder, whining about never being able to find true love while Prussia patted his back, muttering, "Life is fucked up, man. Fucked. Up." America, meanwhile, held him, humming the tune of 'Take Me Out to the Ballgame' in an attempt to calm him down.

"There are people out there who love you, Mathias," America assured him, her words slurring together a bit as she took another gulp of her Manhattan. "Just think, you have your family, all those Nordics… they love you."

That just made him cry even more.

"And Gil and I, we love you."

"No homo, asswipe," Prussia slurred as he downed yet another mug of foamy beer. "I've got a girlfriend!"

"No, you don't," America said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh yeah? Then how do you explain _her_?" Prussia blindly reached out and grabbed someone, yanking them into his lap. Poor Canada was his newest victim. "Look! My girlfriend!"

Canada looked downright terrified. "Um… I'm a man…"

Prussia eyed him closely and then shrugged. "You're my girlfriend, guy. No homo."

"That doesn't make any sense." America eyed her big brother and laughed. "You and Mattie look soooooo cute!"

Canada looked like he wanted to die while Prussia just scoffed. "Ve look _awesome_ , you mean. Not cute. Ve're men!"

"Look how much worse it could be, Mathias," America said, returning her attention to Denmark, who was now using his sobbing as an excuse to shove his face into her cleavage. "You could be forcing my big brother to sit in your lap and call him your girlfriend."

Denmark reluctantly pulled his face away from her chest to eye the pair and then nodded, sitting back up and drinking and apparently forgetting about crying.

"Shut up!" Prussia snapped. He was angry enough to not even notice Canada slide off his lap and hurry away, mumbling about losing his dignity. But, to the three almost-drunk friends who were sitting there, it sounded like he had said something about losing his _virginity_ , not dignity.

"What? You deflowered my brother?! You bastard!" The 'bastard' was delivered in such a way that it would make South Italy proud. America slapped Prussia across the cheek and began to gulp down the rest of her drink, motioning for a refill from the bartender. "Touching my brother like that, you perv! If you even _look_ at Mattie again, I'll cut off your balls! And then I'll let you pick whether you want them shoved down your throat or up your ass!"

"I didn't sleep vith your bruder!" Prussia snapped.

Denmark frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. "Who?"

America opened her mouth, but then she paused before she said anything and shrugged. "Huh. I forget. Wanna hear about my first time?"

"I've been curious about who plucked your flower," Prussia said, tapping his chin. "I alvays thought it vas Francis."

Denmark scowled, not really wanting to hear about it.

"It can't be as awesome as how _I_ lost _my_ virginity!" Prussia puffed up his chest. "I vas Elizaveta's first, and she vas my first! She had gotten beat up pretty bad and I vas going to give her my awesome crotch cloth to help heal her vounds, and then she lunged at me and ve made passionate sex! I rocked her vorld!"

"Outdoor sex is fun," Denmark said wistfully. "I lost my virginity to a nice Danish girl just before I went off on my first Viking raid. She told me she wanted me to remember her always. I cried after."

That last part had been unintentionally said after, but thanks to the happy juice they were all guzzling, it kind of just slipped out. America let out a long "aww" while Prussia snorted and mumbled, "pussy".

Denmark blushed and hurriedly ordered another round while America smirked.

"I don't care if you guys lost your virginity on the fucking moon!" She laughed. "And you can't fool me, Gil. Elizaveta and I gossip all the time! She said you hardly lasted a minute and she had to finish the job for herself."

Now it was Denmark's turn to laugh while Prussia turned bright red and motioned for more beer.

"Anyway, _I_ didn't lose my virginity to just _anyone_." She smirked. "I lost my virginity to Elvis Presley."

Denmark choked on his drink while Prussia's mouth fell open.

" _You had your first time vith the King_?" Prussia halfway screamed. He pounded his fists on the table. "You've got to be fucking _joking_!"

"I am _not_ ," America huffed. "I went to one of his concerts back when he was starting to become this huge sensation, right? Our government was totally watching him because they thought he was up to no good." She grinned. "Just looking at him got me all riled up. While we were making out, I called my boss and he asked me if Elvis was up to anything, and I said he was definitely _up_ to something, if you know what I mean."

She then attempted to wink, but she couldn't quite coordinate her eyes at the moment and ended up just blinking a lot.

"Well, anyway, it wasn't exactly _perfect_ ," she admitted after giving up. Taking a swig of Denmark's drink by accident, she gave him an apologetic look before continuing. "While we started taking our clothes off, I asked him who was going to stick it in who."

" _Vhat_?!" Prussia yelled as Denmark did a spit-take. The bartender glared at them and America quickly threw him a wad of cash and apologized profusely. Once things calmed down, Prussia once more turned to America, looking incredulous. "Vhat vere you planning on sticking in him?!"

America sighed. "All I knew about sex was England's crappy little sex talk, which was basically him telling me to be a virgin forever, and France's big speech about how to _trick_ someone into having sex with you. Not any juicy details, so I ended up getting all my information from Hungary's yaoi collection…"

"Oh, Jesus," Denmark said, rolling his eyes as Prussia groaned. "So you only knew how to have _gay_ sex?"

"Yeah. I figured I was being polite, you know, giving him an opportunity to tell me if he wanted to top before I dominated. And then after I calmed him down, we did it. And that was that."

"That vas _that_?" Prussia shook his head. "You did the nasty vith the most legendary figure in rock and roll history and all you have to say about it is 'that vas that'?"

"I mean, yeah, it was nice," America amended. "But he was no Marlon Brando, you know what I'm sayin'?"

" _You slept vith Marlon Brando_?!"

"Yeah. He got super clingy, though."

Meanwhile, Denmark continued to be depressed, even more so than before as he guzzled his beer and was fast approaching shit-faced drunk. He did _not_ like hearing about America's past dalliances. At. All.

"But they all lacked that… that _je ne sais pas_. I dunno." She grinned. "I'm not losing sleep about it."

" _Mein Gott_ , aren't girls supposed to be all… you know, 'oh, I vant mein happily ever after, oh!'" Prussia frowned suddenly and looked at his empty lap. "Hey! Vhat the hell? Vhere did my girlfriend go?"

"Pssh!" America rolled her eyes. "I don't believe in happily ever after. It's Disney crappola."

Denmark, meanwhile, was still not contributing to this 'scintillating' conversation and instead chose to rest his forehead against the wooden surface of the bar, letting his long arms hang limply toward the ground. This was such a shit night. He wanted to go home.

Prussia grumbled about finding his girlfriend. He stood up and stumbled a bit before sleepiness suddenly overtook him and he passed out in a booth.

America glanced at her friend quietly before she turned to Denmark, a frown on her face. "Damn, Mathias, you look like someone just stole your left nut. What's wrong?"

He didn't say anything and instead took another swig of his drink.

America studied him quietly for a few long moments before sighing. "I'm never going to know what's wrong if you don't tell me."

Denmark gripped his glass until it started to crack under the pressure. He sighed and decided that the alcohol was making him brave and honest for tonight. But he was a man, damn it! He wasn't about to choke out some corny Ryan Gosling soulmate confession.

So all that came out was a strangely fierce, "I _hate_ Elvis Presley." He paused, thinking. "And Marlon Brando. I hate them."

It was quiet for a few long moments before America smiled and then, to Denmark's utter surprise, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. After some careful consideration, she then gave him a hug. Not one of her usual friendly bear hugs that crushed him nearly to death, but a sweet hug. It was… different. Definitely in a good way.

While America continued to hug him (and he finally gathered enough of his drunken wits to return the hug), he couldn't help but think that the night wasn't so bad after all.


	9. The Smartest Idiots You'll Ever Meet

The Awesome Trio had at one point decided it was not fair of them to keep all of their awesomeness to themselves. They each had friends outside of the trio, and once a month, they were allowed to bring a friend (an _awesome_ friend, of course) to an Awesome Trio meeting.

The only reason several of them had attended had been morbid curiosity about what those three did. But upon finding out, no one was ever too impressed (or surprised, for that matter).

Denmark and Prussia had changed up their friends only a few times—Denmark's first guest had been Norway, although that ended with the chilly nation tossing Prussia through a window. Then Denmark had brought Sweden, but within five minutes of their meeting, Sve had stood up, looked them all in the eye, shook his head at Denmark and then left in silence. When Denmark had tried to invite Finland the next week, Sweden had grabbed the phone from her hands and told Demark not to "sc're m'wife' and then promptly hung up. He didn't even bother calling Iceland, knowing full well he wouldn't be interested, and inviting Greenland and the Faroe Islands was weird, seeing as how they were his sisters. In the end, he had found someone to bring regularly—Netherlands, who was so perpetually stoned during these meetings that he was unbothered by the obnoxious wavelengths radiating out from all three members of the Awesome Trio. In truth, he didn't smoke as often as many seemed to believe. But for these little get-togethers, weed was necessary if he wanted to sit through it without shooting someone in the face.

Then there had been Prussia, who hadn't friend-hopped nearly as much. He had first gotten Austria, who, like Sweden, had left, though he'd stuck around for a half hour looking pissed off the whole time. Apparently, the final straw had been when America had decided to crank up the Ke$ha. Austria had yelled about how she wasn't listening to "real music" and had stormed off, never to return. Hungary had sat through a meeting, but she didn't come back, probably because Prussia had spent the entire meeting staring at her and breathing kind of heavily. In the end, Prussia had decided to bring Canada, who he figured could use a good regular dose of awesome.

America was the one with the revolving door of guests, most of them unwilling. The only one who had come who had seemed even remotely interested in what was going on was Mexico, but even he had his limits, despite displaying his big brother Spain's laid-back and cheerful attitude. America had brought England once, but he had spent the whole time complaining, and when she brought France, he just wanted to talk about his hair and try to seduce everyone in the room. She had also brought South Korea, Philippines, Kuwait, Israel, the Italy sisters and even Russia, among a plethora of others that she had jive-talked into coming.

Denmark wondered idly who America would bring this time. Last month she had brought poor Japan, who had managed to evade the meetings until recently. When America wasn't hanging out with him and Prussia, Denmark realized she was usually over at Japan's place. He had been jealous for about two seconds until he actually saw them interacting and realized that America had friendzoned Japan so hard that she found about as much sex appeal in him as she would an inanimate object, like, say, a stapler.

Netherlands sat beside him, a kind, laid-back smile on his face as he appeared to be staring intensely at the ceiling in deep thought. Meanwhile, Prussia was lecturing Canada on the "essential qualities of awesomeness", stating that the first, most obvious rule, was having a name that started with "Pr" and ended in "ussia".

The doors flew open and America walked in. Prussia and Denmark looked up curiously to see who the "lucky" country was and both of them looked like they had shit their pants at around the same time, each of them for different reasons.

"Ta-da~!" America sing-songed. "Lookie-Lou! I brought Australia!"

Australia smiled at them all in that cocky, surfer-prima-donna way that made Denmark's blood boil. Not _this_ fucking shitface. Sure, technically, Denmark and Australia had decent relations. They weren't close by any means, but they weren't adversaries. Politically, anyway.

When it came to America, they were in a full-on war that, so far, had only been comprised of a lot of snide looks, raised eyebrows and cute baby animals. A stand-off, like that movie America had put on for her Western-themed birthday party four years ago, _The Good, the Bad and the Ugly_.

"And look who he brought!" America suddenly grabbed what appeared to be a crocodile on a leash. The horrifying beast let out a warning hiss that America ignored. In fact, her grin just got bigger. "It's Mister Bunny!"

"Mister Bunny?" Prussia echoed. Canada looked terrified and seemed to be contemplating jumping out the window to escape while Denmark hardly noticed the croc, too busy focusing on glaring at Australia, who was just standing there, smiling like the bastard he was. "Vhy the hell vould someone name a beast like that Mister Bunny?"

"Bunnies," Netherlands spoke up, turning his attention to the crocodile. He grinned. "Rabbits are proof that there _is_ a God."

America nodded in agreement with him. "Anyway, we're here. Sorry we took so long. Aussie was showing me some tricks with his boomerang."

Denmark snapped to attention. The way she said 'boomerang' was a lot like the way she said 'axe'. As in, _his_ axe. His axe that she very vocally found sexually arousing.

But he knew he was being ridiculous. There was no way that America could possibly find some lame-ass boomerang cooler than his Viking axe.

But then Australia just had to whip that fucking boomerang out and threw it. The boomerang spun through the room before America jumped up and caught it.

"We're so in sync, guys, it's crazy!" She beamed and fist-bumped him. "Like, we're practically Tina Fey and Amy Poehler we're so… you know. He's like butter and I'm like more butter. And what goes better with butter than butter, am I right?"

Prussia made a face. "Vhatever. Sit down, ve have a lot to go over. Try to keep your simple, unawesome mind up vith us, Kangaroo Jack."

"Can do, mate!" Australia continued to toy with his boomerang and smiled as America scooped Mister Bunny up and then walked over to their designated seats.

"First order of business," Prussia said, standing up and shuffling through some notecards (notecards that mostly just had AWESOME scribbled across it in many different languages). "I vant to hear the awesomest thing you have seen or done in recent memory! Hollandaise Sauce, you first!"

Netherlands blinked and then smiled languidly, stretching out on his seat. He eyed the food America had magically produced from God-knew-where and motioned that he wanted some. As he began to munch on a Nutter Butter, he sighed. "The tulips. Breathtaking."

Everyone made a face, but Prussia just kept going. "Lame, but fine. Next! Dane!"

"Huh… Oh! I looked in a mirror this morning!"

"Boo!" America tossed a Nutter Butter at him, hitting him square in the jaw. He blinked and picked it up off the floor, looking at it curiously before America added, "Five second rule, dude. You're good."

"I agree vith the babe, that vas so lame I feel like throwing myself on a sword." Prussia shook his head, disappointed in his friend. "Dingo-Ate-My-Baby, you're next."

Australia brightened up. "Let's see… went cliff diving yesterday. That was pretty awesome. Oh! I visited America's house and we tossed rocks and rubbish into an active volcano in Hawaii. That was pretty awesome, too."

"Daw, I was going to use that one!" America laughed. "Okay, okay. My turn! Hm… oh! I slapped a snake!"

Everyone looked at her, eyebrows raised.

Finally, Netherlands cleared his throat. "Care to elaborate?"

"Sure!" She grinned. "Well, I wanted to explore some tombs with Aussie here. Remember, Jack?" The Australian nodded, recalling their fun times in the dark Pharaoh tombs, but he couldn't recall any snake slapping. "Anyway, I went to Egypt to ask him if we could mess around in the tombs and stuff and he wasn't real big on that idea."

"Well, yeah," Canada grumbled, rolling his eyes. "That would be like someone coming to your house to ask if they could poke around Lincoln's grave, Mia."

"Irrelevant." America pouted at her brother before continuing. "So he was all, 'Go get me stuff to make an awesome dinner and we can talk while we eat'. And we all know I just _love_ eating, and I _really_ love talking, and what's better than eating _and_ talking, am I right? So I decided to go catch some fish and make something with that because I was in a fish mood and I caught a _ton_ of stuff.

"So I go to find Egypt and he's all waiting for me at his house and I was carrying the fish in a garbage bag, right? I was planning on getting everything gutted and then all of a sudden, Egypt starts yelling and I'm all, 'OMG, WUT?' Then there's this hissing and get this—a _cobra_ strikes at me. Double get this: he _missed_. He bit at the garbage bag instead, but then he was getting ready to go at me again!"

At this point, America ran out of breath and took a big glug of her Coke before giving them all a shit-eating grin.

"I had no other choice." She puffed out her chest and laughed. "I bitch-slapped that fugly asswipe so hard that it went sailing through the air and disappeared into the horizon!"

She began guzzling her Coke while everyone kind of sat there in silence, picturing America smacking a massive King Cobra off into the distance just because it lunged at her garbage bag full of fish that she was going to gut for dinner.

Only America.

"So that's the awesomest thing I did all week," she concluded, smashing her now-empty soda can against her forehead. It crumpled easily and she threw it in the general direction of a recycling bin, not really caring if she made the shot or not. She then grinned at Canada. "Your turn, brosif!"

Canada just kind of stared at her for a few long moments before he sighed. "I don't think I can top that. Can we just name Mia the winner and get it over with?"

Prussia sighed. " _Ja_ , I don't think anyone vill beat 'bitch slapping a snake'. Okay… Next order of business. Looks like all we have scheduled is… 'be awesome'." He tossed his notecards aside and sat down, resting his feet on the tabletop. "Anyone got any requests? What should we do today?"

Australia was quick to raise his hand like a student in a classroom.

"I svear to all fucking things awesome, if you suggest ve play vith your fucking boomerang, I vill end you," Prussia said threateningly.

Slowly, Australia lowered his hand, looking somewhat disappointed, though he perked up considerably when America patted his shoulder in a comforting manner (Denmark watched very closely, of course, just to make sure there were no shady moves being made).

"We could play with Mister Bunny!" America suggested, pointing to her new crocodile. She giggled and reached into her purse, yanking out a slab of what appeared to be (and reeked like) a slab of raw meat. She tossed it at the crocodile and began to baby talk it as it tore the meat apart.

"I'd like to keep my limbs," Denmark said. "I still think we should destroy London and rebuild it with Legos."

"I second that!" America said quickly. "Iggy and I are _so_ close, I know he'd love it!"

Canada stared at his sister, wondering how she could _possibly_ think England would like something like that. He quickly scooped Kumajiro off the ground as Mister Bunny began to prowl around the room, having consumed his raw meat. The terrifying (or, as America would insist, 'most adorablest, cutest widdle pookie-faced sweety-bopper') beast slunk around, causing everyone to shift a bit nervously.

Finally, the great beast stopped beside Denmark, who was doing his best not to flee the room. "Uhm… good boy?"

Mister Bunny stared at him for a few long moments before curling around Denmark's chair, making a hissing noise. Denmark sat there, frozen in terror while America clapped her hands together cheerfully.

"Aw, he likes you!" She then climbed onto the table and heroically posed. "Wait, I know what we should do!"

"Do tell, mate!" Australia said eagerly, craning his neck to try to peek up her skirt. He ignored Denmark's evil glare, though more or less the Nordic nation was a bit distracted by the goliath man-eating monster sleeping at his feet.

She threw her head back as she laughed. "Let's sneak into Francie-Pantsie's house and shave his eyebrows off! Hoo-hah!"

"That is an awesome idea!" Prussia cried, slamming his fist onto the table. "Let's go!"

They all began to rush out of the room—Canada a bit less eagerly than Prussia, America and Australia—and Netherlands just said he was going to skip in favor of getting some waffles at his sister's place to help with his munchies.

That left Denmark, still stranded in his chair, to stare after them helplessly with big puppy eyes. Sensing his distress, America returned to the meeting room and laughed.

"Don't worry, pally! The hero's got you!" She snapped her fingers and whistled. Amazingly enough, Mister Bunny woke up and sluggishly dragged himself over to her. She then beckoned Denmark to come with.

"Come on, dude!" She grabbed his arm and they ran off. "Let's go make France's life a living hell!"


	10. The Louder You Are, The Awesomer You Are

Finland was quietly taking notes during yet another World Meeting, listening intently to what the Italy sisters were talking about, although it was a bit difficult since the younger sister kept yelling out, "PASTA!" at random intervals while the older would gnash her teeth at the interruption, whack Feliciana upside the head, and then continue with her speech about their mafia problem in Naples.

As the speech continued, Finland glanced down at her notes and began to doodle a picture of Hanatamago in the margins. She was a little bit bored as she began to quietly hum to herself, though not too loudly. She didn't want to distract anyone (she didn't know it at the time, but Sweden, who was sitting on one side of her, could hear her tuneless humming and was immediately distracted by a chanting chorus of _cute cute cute cute cute_ running through his head, especially once he spied her childish scribble of their dog).

"Penis."

Finland jumped a little, unsure if she had heard what she thought she had. It had barely been a whisper so she couldn't tell if she had actually heard 'penis' or 'pasta'. Perhaps Feliciana had taken to trying to say the word under her breath so that her sister wouldn't yell at her again.

Deciding that it must've been North Italy, Finland began to scribble a heart into the margin as well, writing out _Sve + Finn_ in the middle in her loopy handwriting (at this point, Sweden's mind had left the building; he could no longer function due to the adorableness of his wife).

"Penis."

There it was again! But this time it was a guy saying it, and it was a little bit louder. It almost sounded like it had come from nearby where Germany sat. She looked up and narrowed her eyes at a smug-looking Prussia, who was smirking at his brother a little _too_ innocently. Germany looked confused, as if he wasn't sure of something.

_Maybe he heard it, too_? Finland wondered. She looked over at Sweden to ask him if he had heard anything, but he had that terrifying _look_ on his face that made Finland turn red and quickly look down at her notebook page again. She was very sure she would _never_ get used to that.

"Penis."

Someone had definitely said penis right by her ear. Finland turned and narrowed her violet eyes at Denmark. He was scribbling notes into his notebook, but he had that very-familiar too-big grin on his face.

So. She _had_ heard him say what she thought he had said. But he wasn't the only one. And Finland only really needed two guesses about who the other two offenders were.

Sure enough, when she looked up at where America sat beside England, the girl was smirking while England hissed something at her between clenched teeth. Then, while Finland watched, America said it again, louder this time so that _several_ nations looked at her.

" _Penis_."

"Amelia!" England snapped. He turned bright red when the Vargas sisters stopped talking and everyone stared at him. He turned red and then lowered his voice, though Finland could still hear him if she focused. "That is _not_ appropriate behavior!"

"Your face isn't appropriate behavior," America snapped back. England groaned and rolled his eyes. "Stay out of it, Iggy, this is between me, Mathias and Gil."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Prussia said, at normal volume, " _Penis_!"

"Bruder!" Germany looked mortified. "Vhat is going on?!"

To Finland's surprise, Denmark practically jumped out of his chair and said in his normal (i.e. very loud) speaking voice, " _Penis_!"

England couldn't keep America in her seat. "PENIS!"

"PENIS!" Prussia was standing on his chair. Now it not only seemed to be a battle of who could scream out male genitalia louder, it would appear they wanted to stand taller than the other.

The meeting erupted into chaos. Switzerland was quick to sweep Liechtenstein out of the room with his hands clasped over her ears while Japan just sort of looked ready to die. Some countries, like France and Greece, didn't seem too bothered at all, and for some, like Spain, it was some kind of reminder that he had fully-functioning reproductive organs and he wanted to use them at that exact moment, which caused him to grab Romana and announce they were going home.

"Alright, I've had enough of this bullshit!" America suddenly yelled while Denmark and Prussia continued to scream 'penis'. Jumping off the table, America reached into her duffle bag and dug around a bit until she yanked out a massive megaphone. Returning to the tabletop, she turned the device on and hovered it over her lips.

At that moment, Finland heard the loudest scream of "PEEEEENIIIIIIISSSSSSSS" in her life.

Denmark and Prussia looked floored as America smirked at them victoriously.

"Not fair!" Prussia whined. Denmark was nodding in agreement, pouting.

"A deal's a deal, pencildicks." She tossed the megaphone aside.

At this point, many countries were staring at the unfolding scene, unsure of what, exactly, was going on. Both Prussia and Denmark looked resigned and nodded, returning to their seats.

The meeting let out fairly quickly after that. America looked very happy, but Denmark and Prussia looked like both of them were contemplating suicide.

_Wonder what kind of deal they made with America_ , Finland wondered idly. _It can't be all that bad_ …

* * *

"Pink leggings?" Prussia was ready to rip his hair out. "You're making me vear pink fucking leggings?!"

" _Glittery_ pink fucking leggings," America corrected. "They really define the shape of your calves, Gil."

Giving her a warning look, Prussia mumbled, "Don't push it, bitch."

"Watch it, fucker," Denmark mumbled in warning, albeit half-heartedly. He had to admit that, as much as he liked America, this was… well. This was pushing it.

The deal had been simple. It had all begun when they had accidentally crashed a "Magic Trio" meeting while they had decided to stop by England's house for some of his food (they were planning on having a "who can keep from ralphing the longest" competition… the name speaks for itself). For a few moments (i.e. about thirty seconds) the trios co-existed peacefully. And then shit hit the fan. Long story short, England kicked them all out after Norway froze them nearly to death and Romania scared the ever-living shit out of America with his fangs.

"I don't know which one of you tossers is loudest!" England had shouted. "But I don't want to bloody figure it out! Piss off!"

That had left them all sitting there, dumbfounded.

"Vhat does he mean 'who is the loudest'?" Prussia had suddenly scoffed, smoothing his clothes as America helped Denmark to his feet. "Obviously I am. The louder you are, the awesomer you are, that's vhat I alvays say."

"You said that _once_ ," America muttered. "Besides, I'm _way_ louder than you are, birdbrain. I'm louder than a crowd of foghorns at a Foghorn Convention. _That's_ how loud I am."

"That's pretty loud," Denmark amended. "But I'll have you know that my battle cry is known to shake all of Europe."

"I thought that was Sweden," America corrected, her eyebrows wrinkling together in thought, which caused Denmark to convulse furiously in an effort not to freak out on her. "Anyway, this argument is stupid because all our arguments are stupid because I always win. _Always_."

"Not this time, bitch!" Prussia had chortled.

So the rules had been set. At the next meeting, they were to see who could be the loudest. Of course, they couldn't just say any old thing. So they decided to up the ante by yelling 'penis'. Whoever won got to pick an activity for them to do and the other two _had_ to do it. No matter what.

The rules weren't very specific, though, so America's little trick with the megaphone was a completely valid if not douchey move.

Honestly, Denmark and Prussia hadn't been too upset over the idea of America winning. Her ideas were usually incredibly fun, although they could be a bit hit-or-miss. Dragging them both to an illegal underground fight club so they could freely beat the shit out of people? Hit! Dragging them both to the Spam Museum? Miss. Big, fat miss in a tin can filled with barely-edible food.

And this little outing was a miss, too. A big, fat miss in platinum blonde wigs and glittery pink fucking leggings.

To be fair, though, America hadn't forced him to _just_ wear the leggings. He was wearing short-shorts over them. She had also managed to force him into a neon t-shirt and had attacked him with glittery hairspray before she decided to let him off the hook.

Denmark, however, had gotten the beat-down pretty bad, too. America had explained to him that she made his shirt entirely out of tinsel, multi-colored safety pins and packaging peanuts. His jeans were bright orange and skin-tight and his shoes were… actually, they were knee-high lace-up leather boots because, apparently, America wanted him to hate himself.

Despite what she had forced them into, it was nothing compared to what she wore. She had put bright blue extensions into her hair, which had been meticulously straightened. She had explained that her leotard had been made out of sparkly rainbow felt and a smashed-up disco ball. She wore torn-up fishnets and high heels that actually brought her to eye-level with Denmark.

What was up with the outfits, exactly? Well, America had decided to drag the Awesome Trio to a Lady Gaga concert.

Oh, Prussia and Denmark had bitched a moaned about it forever while America wrestled them into their ridiculous outfits. Sure, they were basically forced to go, but that didn't mean they had to enjoy it for fuck's sake.

Once she managed to corral them inside, the opener was taking the stage. America bounced around eagerly, a bit wobbly on her high heels as she threw her arms around Prussia and Denmark's shoulders, forcing them deeper into the building.

"I'm scared," Prussia said, eyeing a few "Little Monsters" as they made their way through the crowd towards the stage.

America laughed. "Pussy. Just be glad I didn't pick the Menstruation Museum. We could be talking about tampons right now~!"

Prussia shuddered and wisely kept his mouth shut as the opener walked off the stage and Mother Monster herself stepped up. America let out an excited scream, causing both her friends to flinch away.

"I'm going to the fucking bar," Prussia mumbled, slinking off.

America didn't seem to notice. She was completely transfixed on the opening lyrics to 'Just Dance' being sung onstage. She then noticed Denmark's pained look and let out an annoyed _pfft_.

"If it's _so_ torturous, here." She reached into her cleavage and pulled out a bright blue iPod and Superman-themed headphones. "Drown it out. I've got tons of stuff on there."

Denmark balked. "How did you…?"

"Oh, Tony made me a miniature wormhole so I can carry shit around." She shrugged, as if to say _NBD_. "Knock yourself out. Peace, fun-sucker!"

She then walked off, shooting Denmark annoyed looks over her shoulder as she headed deeper into the crowd and vanished from sight.

Denmark sighed, wondering if he had legitimately pissed her off. He doubted it, but still. He felt kind of bad. She'd been really pumped about bringing them to the Lady Gaga concert, but God help him, he couldn't bring himself to like it…

He put the headphones on and cranked up the volume, deciding to peek into her playlists. She had a lot of ones that made him laugh—one was called 'Songs to Annoy England With', which was literally made up of songs that were exclusively in French. There was another called 'Songs that Make Me Feel Badass', another titled 'Bow-Chicka-Wow-Wow'… hah, one called 'Actual Singers Actually Singing'… and one called…

Woah. His finger hovered right over the buttons as his eyes widened. There was a playlist labeled 'Mathias'. After a few seconds, he opened it up and was immediately met with Lionel Richie's 'Hello'. He nearly dropped the iPod, his mind racing with questions.

Why would she have this song on a playlist named after him? Did she know some other Mathias? No, probably not. So did that mean…?

Shakily, he skipped to the next song and almost passed out. 'Sparks Fly' by Taylor Swift. Of course she'd throw some "T-Swizzle" on there.

He skipped to the next song and smiled. 'I Want to Hold Your Hand' by the Beatles. How… damn it, that was adorable.

Pulling off the headphones, he looked around for her. He had to find America and ask her about this playlist or… or _something_.

_Where the fuck is she? Where the fuck is Gil?!_

As if he had been summoned, Prussia appeared with two brightly colored drinks in hand. He grinned, leaning against Denmark and offering him one.

"Try it. It's like juice!"

"Nah." Denmark pushed the drink away, causing Prussia to gasp and stare at his friend with worry. "Have you seen Mia?"

" _Nein_. Are you sure you don't vant this?" He continued to wave it in Denmark's face. "It's got alcohol~!"

"I need you to look at something." Denmark brushed the drink away, causing Prussia to nearly shit himself in shock. Denmark turning down a free drink? What the hell?! "Look at this."

Prussia glanced down and raised an eyebrow as Denmark began to show him the playlist. He snorted and rolled his red eyes. "Man, you've really got to man up. Grow some balls and go take vhat you vant. She obviously vants you to."

"You think so?"

"I'll give you a clue," Prussia replied. He yanked the iPod from Denmark's hands and then scrolled down to another song and then shoved it in Denmark's face. "She has 'Let's Put the X in Sex' by KISS on here. On a playlist vith _your_ name on it! _Mein Gott_. I'm getting real fucking sick of vatching you act like a fucking used dildo. I thought you vere a Viking!"

Denmark blinked and felt a stirring in his chest. Yes. Yes, he was a Viking. And yes, he wanted America, and he wanted her _now_. He knew for a _fact_ that he was going to find out exactly what was on her 'Bow-Chicka-Wow-Wow' playlist and he was going to find out _soon_.

But he'd be damned if his first romantic encounter with her would be at a fucking Lady Gaga concert.

But he still wanted to find her.

That's why he turned and walked off, his need to seek her out stronger than ever. And because he was one lucky bastard, he finally stumbled into her head banging like a madwoman to 'Bad Romance'.

"Mathias!" She grinned, looking dizzy and a bit surprised to see him there. "What are you doing? I thought you were going to sit in a corner and pout like a little bitch all night. Or do you secretly love Mother Monster?"

Denmark groaned. " _Nej_ , I still hate this shit." That earned him a few nasty looks from several fans that overheard. "But just because I hate this music doesn't mean I don't want to dance with you."

America paused, her cheeks heating up. She then laughed and stuck her hand out. "Well, come on! I'll sweep you away with my killer dance moves!"

Denmark took her hand and tried his best to ignore the fact that he was dancing like a crazy person at a Lady Gaga concert and instead focused on America as she bounced around him happily.

He could live through this torture, if only for one night. She was worth it.


	11. Shut Up And Drive

It was no secret that Prussia had a plethora of diaries so vast that it could make every middle school-aged girl on Earth convulse into a jealous rage. In fact, once, Denmark and America had busted into his library of diaries and had been thumbing through them. America had nearly shit herself over a few of the entries about Denmark, her favorite being a recounting of the time he had burned off his old Viking beard at a bonfire at Sweden and Finland's place. To this day, he had been unable to grow it back.

Denmark had always wondered at the purpose of the diaries and why Prussia felt the need to keep a detailed account of every minute detail of his very long life. The Dane had never felt the need to do so himself, but maybe that was because he wasn't a 12-year-old girl.

However, he was a man who was head-over-heels for a blonde bubblehead with more power than she knew how to handle, and he was just clueless enough in the ways of romance to be borderline desperate. In fact, he was well past borderline desperate. He was practically frothing at the mouth he wanted her so bad.

And desperate times call for desperate measures. When it came to the America Situation, Denmark knew beggars could not be choosers.

He had tried, really, he had, to speak to someone else. _Anyone_ else. Norway didn't want to hear about it (some best friend he was; Denmark was starting to get the feeling Norway didn't actually like him) and Iceland had followed suit. Sweden listened, but he lacked advice, and Finland's advice was terrible (it mostly involved talking about feelings and going to death metal concerts). Netherlands had just shrugged and told him to "man up" and Japan had just turned bright red and mumbled something like "RusAme is my OTP, please find someone else to bother".

So Denmark had had no other choice. There was no way he was going to England, who would probably threaten to cut off his dick if he so much as spoke to America again, and he wasn't asking France because he would probably just hand Denmark a condom and call it good.

No. Denmark had to go to the one person he knew would be straight with him, and that was Prussia.

"You've come to the right awesome guy," Prussia said as he fed Gilbird out of the palm of his hand. "I knew you vould recognize the awesome advice I could give and could not resist coming to ask me vhat I vould do, _ja_?"

Denmark tried to suppress a groan. " _Ja_ , sure. But just to clarify, Hungary _still_ thinks you're the scum of the Earth, right?"

Prussia huffed. "If you don't vant my help, you can leave! I'm not in the mood to vatch you act like a vagina."

"Low blow." Denmark sighed. "But I don't really have anyone else to go to, so just humor me: what would you do if you were in my shoes?"

"Honestly, I'd just bang her," Prussia said.

Then, Hungary herself suddenly appeared in the open window, looking downright furious with Prussia, as per usual. She held a fancy-looking camera in one hand and what looked like some kind of manga in the other.

"Honestly, that's the worst advice I've heard all day!" Hungary then climbed through the window, smoothed out her clothing, and then tossed her manga into Denmark's lap before sitting beside him. "Besides, you're supposed to be with Norway."

"What now?"

"Says so in my doujin."

"Oh, then it _must_ be accurate." Denmark made the massive mistake of flipping through it and quickly slammed it shut, his cheeks turning red. "God. What the fuck?"

"At least you top," Prussia muttered.

Hungary looked like she had just won a million dollars. "You read doujinshi, Prussia?"

" _Ja_ , you made me, remember? That one vith me and that communist asshole?" Prussia sighed. "And then you made me read all of them, including the ones vith the Nordics and the three-vays with me and Spain and France… _Gott_ , it vas mentally scarring, but I did it!"

Hungary kept staring at him like she was seeing him for the first time while Denmark was trying to decide whether it was worth getting beaten mercilessly with a frying pan if he burned the manga. Then a little idea came to mind.

"Hey, are there any of these porn comics about America and me?"

"DenAme?" Hungary tapped her chin and sighed. "No. Mostly I see USUK and RusAme. Or Ameripan. I've read a few FrUS, too, and some AmeCan. DenAme isn't a big ship, but it's out there. You're called the 'Fourth of July Pair'."

"I have no idea what the fuck you were just saying," Denmark replied.

Hungary just huffed in annoyance. "It doesn't matter because _I_ know what I'm talking about, and DenNor is canon, as far as I'm concerned."

Denmark just sort of continued to stare and then glanced down at the doujinshi again warily before setting it aside. "Okay… fine, I'll bite. Hungary, what would you do if you were me?"

"Oh!" Hungary looked pleased as punch to be asked such a question. She tapped her chin and then smiled as an idea came upon her. "Take her somewhere she'll like. She's always going on and on about all these places… like visiting museums or aquariums or zoos or bungee jumping or skydiving or extreme dirtbiking or—"

"Yeah, ve get it, she's insane," Prussia said, cutting her off. "She either vants to go look at dangerous things or do dangerous things. But I think vhat he's asking is how is he going to get it through her thick skull that he's obsessed vith her?"

"I'm not _obsessed_ ," Denmark mumbled, causing Prussia to snort.

Hungary smiled. "Sit her down and just be forward with her. She won't have any clue what you're talking about if you beat around the bush or act vague about it. Just be simple and to the point: all you have to say is 'America, I have feelings for you. I would like to date you.' Only more romantic, of course."

"How the fuck am I supposed to sound romantic?" Denmark groaned. "I don't know how to use flowery words!"

Hungary just shrugged as if to say _not my problem, you little whiny bitch_. "Think of something she likes, get her a present that spells it out for her, then. But don't come crying to me when it doesn't work."

"Me neither," Prussia agreed. "Now, let me check my journals so ve can get an idea of vhat you can get the babe."

Prussia then led him to his massive collection of journals where they then began to dig in. It took hours— _hours_ —and Denmark kept digging around long after the other two had lost interest.

"Take a break, loser," Prussia demanded when Denmark stared up at the pair of them with bloodshot eyes. He picked up a random diary and sighed, flipping through it. "It'll take forever to get through all of this. Although _this_ diary is interesting… it's back vhen her astronauts landed on the moon."

Denmark paused, an idea suddenly forming in his mind. It had the potential to either be totally awesome… or totally lame. Oh, God, he hoped America would like it because it was the best thing he could come up with.

* * *

"NASCAR is awesome, but…" America craned her neck, trying to look over the crowd of people. "Where's Mathias?"

Prussia sighed inwardly. It was a miracle America and Denmark hadn't jumped each other by now, honestly. He was as much a victim in this whole affair as America and Denmark, what with being forced to sit through so much sexual tension. And all the beatings he received for "sexually harassing" America. Honestly, he was pretty sure if Denmark just manned up already and handled things to old-fashioned way (i.e. caveman style clubbing-over-the-head, dragging-back-to-the-cave "me-want-woman-now" style) then he would be much happier. Both of them would be happier, probably.

He sighed through his nose and perked up once the cars began to drive out onto the track. "Vell, the race isn't going to vait for him. I'm sure he'll show, just relax and stuff."

America frowned but acquiesced once Prussia handed her an extra-large Coke. They were attending a car race, which had been something America had been whining about for _ages_. Despite it sounding semi-decent, neither of her friends had had much interest in going anyway, seeing as how watching a bunch of fast cars drive in circles over and over again didn't pique any interests.

But, what with being awesome and all that, they had finally caved and went to a NASCAR race. Because they were awesome like that. He had even gotten tickets close to all the action, right by the finish line.

Letting his eyes rove around the cars, he finally spotted a bright red and white one. Grinning, he shook his head. _That crazy bastard is going to do it_!

"Man, I should've entered," America whined, slurping up her soda. "I would've kicked pansy ass! Seriously, I would have. Don't think I wouldn't have because I would have."

"I hope the race starts with a crash," Prussia commented as America yanked a bag of family-sized chips from her shirt and opened it up, munching loudly. "Vhere the fuck do you stash all that food?!"

America shrugged. "Ever heard of a wormhole? Because Tony made me one to carry around so I can stash food and stuff. Actually, he said it was for emergencies, so he wanted me to put major weapons and shit in there, but running out of junk food _is_ a fucking emergency, as far as I'm concerned."

Before Prussia could even comment on that, the engines revved and the race began. Both of them screamed and hollered in appreciation for the massive amount of unnecessary speed being brought onto the cars. The engines roared loudly through the arena.

There was one car, painted red and white, that was looking to be the front-runner. Prussia smirked as America oohed and aahed each time the car smoothly passed the others. She openly asked who the racer was, having never seen the car before.

The race ended with a bang, literally. The front runners were the red and white car and one that was camo-themed. At some point during the derby, Prussia had yanked his shirt off and had started yelling in German.

In the end, the red and white car was victorious. The man driving stumbled out and grinned at the crowd, pulling off any protective gear he wore. Once he revealed his face, America gasped.

"Holy shit. Is that…?" America became uncharacteristically quiet as Denmark walked over, dirty with grease and grime. His hair stuck up more than normal despite his having been wearing a helmet the whole time and he made a beeline toward America and Prussia.

" _Hej_ ," he said cheerfully, ignoring all the people whooping and clapping for him.

"Ah… hey." She smiled, her face turning bright red. "'Sup?"

"I got you something." He reached into his pockets and pulled out a slightly crumpled, folded piece of paper. He handed it to her, looking a little embarrassed.

America unfolded the paper and her eyes widened. She didn't say anything and instead read the formal-looking certificate.

"It's stupid," Denmark said quickly. "But I know you like space and stuff. I remember when you stole that moon rock from the history museum in DC. The one from Apollo 16? And then you tried to escape the building through the vents when security came and tried to get you to put it back."

"Those assholes were such assholes," America murmured, smiling at the paper.

"Totally." Denmark seemed to relax a bit. "And, uh, I thought you might like this."

"I do." America looked up at him, her million-dollar Hollywood smile lighting up her face. "I can't believe you bought me a star!"

Denmark grinned back and felt something churning in his chest. It was time to man up, to connect with his inner Viking and take what he wanted. He had bought a star for her. He had won a car race for her. Fuck, he had danced at a goddamn motherfucking Lady Gaga concert for her.

He grew bold. Very, very bold. His eyes flashed with that promise of mischief and possible illegal activity as his smile grew downright wicked. America blinked, her heart stuttering in her chest as she slipped the certificate into her pocket.

That's when Denmark grabbed her and then yanked her into probably the most epic kiss to ever rock the Earth on its axis. It was like dropping a lit match onto a pile of dry hay.

_Boom_.

One moment, they were pressing their lips together, hopeful and eager at the idea of new love. The next thing they knew, they were frantically grabbing at each other and acting only on impulse (something they were both very good at).

" _Mein Gott_ ," Prussia suddenly said from nearby, looking at them both like he was watching two turtles going at it. "You two smell like sex and neither of you is even naked!"

Denmark ignored him. Then, with so much conviction that it made America shudder, Denmark said, "I want you. _Now_."

America blinked. And then she smirked. "Well, _finally_! But first… can I drive your car?" After a second, she smirked and rolled onto the tips of her toes so she could whisper in his ear. "And then we can do it in the backseat or somethin'."

Long story short… both of them were walking funny the next day. They had ended up finding their way to America's house… which ended up completely decimated. Although that's what'll happen when an axe is used in foreplay.


	12. I'd Rather Be In America

It all began when America arrived at a World Meeting wearing a Wonder Woman outfit.

" _Hola_ , dorks!" she said cheerfully, skipping to her open seat between Prussia and Denmark. Both of them, like every other person in the room, gaped at her, open-mouthed. Apparently unaware of the staring, America simply slid into her seat and yanked a box of jelly doughnuts from her portable wormhole, munching down like a starving trucker at a roadside diner.

England was the first to speak up, his voice shrill. " _Amelia F. Jones! What on God's green Earth are you wearing?"_

"Huh?" America blinked and tilted her head to the side, apparently unaware of what had caused such an outrage. She shook her head. "I can't understand you when you use that tone of voice, Iggy."

"Don't try to be cheeky!" England slammed his fist on the table and stood up. "Cover yourself up! _Now_!"

"Oh, you're poopin' your pants about my outfit?" America sighed. "I thought Europeans were supposed to be cool about this stuff… Gil, what's with the camera?"

"I'm taking a picture for my awesome blog," he explained. "Smile!"

America quickly flashed him a peace sign and winked. Denmark could be seen glaring in the background, obviously making plans to erase such a picture (but not before getting a copy for himself, of course).

"I _am_ fine with such things," England said, his voice rising to the point where everyone was sure only dogs could hear it. "But not when _you're_ dressed like a… like a lady of the night!"

"Holy Hera, would you calm down?!" America crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "I'm obviously _cosplaying_ , dude. Get with the times."

"Cos… what?"

Japan cleared his throat, his face red as he offered an explanation. "I invited Amelia-chan to an anime convention at my house. She is cosplaying. Dressing as her favorite superhero, I believe."

"Damn skippy!" America grinned, flicking a lock of hair out of her eyes. "I have a few possible outfits, but I wanted to try on each one to see what's the most comfortable. So today I decided to try out good old Wondy-Pants!" She turned and gave Denmark a grin. "Whaddaya think?"

Denmark kind of sat there, opening and closing his mouth. The only sound that came out were tiny little wheezing noises. His face started to turn a little bit red and once he began to sweat profusely, America let him off the hook while Norway tried to smack him back to reality.

"Hoookay… Gil? Any constructive criticism?"

Prussia considered that for a moment. "You could stand to show more skin, I think."

England practically breathed fire upon hearing such a thing and Denmark suddenly snapped out of it, realizing that he was not the only one hyperventilating over the sight of America wearing a star-spangled leotard and a tiara with a matching pair of hooker boots. In fact, even Iceland looked like he was having trouble with keeping himself under control. That little shit.

Denmark hurriedly moved to block America from his view, earning him a nasty look from both the violet-eyed nation _and_ his puffin. Of course, that was nothing compared to the furious wave of anger that hit him when fucking Australia decided to chime in with his opinion.

"You look better than the real Wonder Woman, I reckon," he commented. He then gave America a wink that made her laugh, which, of course, made Denmark see furious red. It didn't help that Australia asked Prussia for a copy of the pictures he was taking.

"Oh, and hey, Iggy, you'll love this!" America yanked her lasso out from the belt and grinned. "Check it, this thing is magic!"

_That_ had England's attention. He zeroed in on it, tapping his chin in thought. "Really? What does it do?"

"Anyone who touches it has to tell the truth!" America laughed. "Watch this!"

Considering her years spent as a cowgirl, America was incredibly good at spinning her lasso in the air, making sure to show off a bit before she wrangled Prussia. He blinked in surprise.

"Alright, Gil, what are you thinking right now?"

Prussia's eyes widened and he seemed to zone out. Seemingly without any control over himself, he said, "Damn, America has a nice rack."

The room fell silent for a few long moments before England let out a torrent of colorful swear words, some of which no one had ever heard before, while Denmark yanked Prussia from the lasso and slammed his head into the tabletop, promptly knocking him out.

Things were calmed down a bit and England ended up corralling America out of the meeting with Denmark and Belarus's help, although Belarus was a little too handsy about the whole thing. No one could force America to change her outfit, although England managed to bribe her into changing when he said he would get her a massive bucket of sherbet if she at least put some pants on.

* * *

Everyone thought such drama was behind them when day two of the meeting started, but alas, it was not to be when America flounced in dressed up as Princess Leia. Not just any Princess Leia outfit, either. She was dressed as Leia from episode six. As in, she was wearing the slave outfit.

She beamed at everyone cheerfully as she once again took her seat, messing with her skirts a little as she ignored everyone's blatant staring.

Russia was breathing very, _very_ heavily and Denmark quickly became concerned. He glanced at England, seeing if his ally in the fight against America's cosplay outfits was going to say something, but it appeared he had passed out from shock.

"Greetings, y'all!" America walked to her seat and sat down, grinning from ear to ear and once more unconcerned with her lack of clothing. "Where did we leave off yesterday?"

Denmark glanced over at Prussia, who had been chatting with Spain and France. All three of them were staring, and Denmark was unhappy to note that they all had their rape faces activated. He was suddenly very, very scared that the Bad Touch Trio was about to move in on her.

Thank God for Germany.

"Everybody sit down! _Los_!" Germany sent a nasty glare in America's direction, clearly blaming her for the interruption. "Now. Let's get on vith this meeting. Could someone vake England up so ve can… bruder. Vhat are you _doing_?"

Prussia was kneeling on the ground, poking at America's skirts, his face hovering a little too close to America's very-bare leg for Denmark's liking. "I'm trying to see if she's vearing anything underneath her skirt."

Denmark couldn't _believe_ America wasn't doing anything to stop him. He looked at her and groaned, realizing why. She had her phone on the table and was very engrossed in a game of Flappy Bird.

Looks like it was all up to him.

Denmark quickly grabbed Prussia by his collar, attempting to yank him up, but it wasn't working. Prussia very angrily grabbed at one of the table legs and held fast. In Denmark's attempt to yank him up, the table jerked, causing America to shriek as she lost her game.

"I was _just_ about to beat my high score!" She turned to Prussia and Denmark, her glare intense enough to cause both of them to wither. "I was at seventy-six. Do you _know_ how difficult that is?!"

"He… he was going to look up your skirt!" Denmark halfway whined, giving Prussia a good punch in the stomach.

" _Seriously_?" America stood up and gave Prussia the stink eye. "Can't a girl enjoy wearing whatever she pleases whenever she wants, scanty costumes and all?"

"What a lovely proverb!" France cried from where he had been sitting and drooling while he stared at America. He quickly yanked out a notebook and began to scribble it down.

This was terrible for poor Denmark. He and America had yet to take it public, per say—only Prussia knew about them and he'd written an extensive report on his blog, although no one read it. Hungary had an inkling of what was going on and Denmark was sure that Sweden was onto them, though of course he didn't say anything.

If they all knew who America was dating no one would dare pull any of this crap. He had to just come out and say it directly. Yeah. That's how to do it!

But before he could make plans on just what to say, he had to figure out how to get America to cover herself up before he killed someone.

* * *

"I like that one," Netherlands said so quickly that everyone jumped in surprise. The blonde nation was staring hard at America, who had just walked in clad in a red Playboy Bunny outfit. "I really, really like that one. It's my favorite and I love it."

"Calm down before I rip your fucking tongue out of your face," Denmark halfway growled.

Netherlands quieted but his gaze followed America very closely as she made her way over to an open seat between Canada and England. She sat down and smiled at them both. Canada looked ready to die while England was shaking; his face was becoming bright red and it only got redder when France began to coo about America's wardrobe.

"I must say, I am loving your apparel lately, _mon amie_!" France patted America's head before he played with the bunny ears. "How cute! This one gets my vote! It's so classy!"

" _Classy_?!" England smacked France's hand off of America's bunny ears and seemed to be contemplating whether or not to bomb every single country ogling her. "This is about as classy as working a street corner!"

"I like it," Netherlands said again. He had appeared right behind America despite no one having noticed him moving. "This is my favorite outfit ever."

"Dude." Denmark stood up and frowned, making sure to shove Netherlands away from America. "Not fucking cool."

Netherlands groaned as he continued to stare at America, his breathing getting heavy. "I know… I just can't help it. I don't know what's happening. But I love that outfit."

"Ooh! Look who else likes it!" America sing-songed. "Gilbird!"

Gilbird was sitting on America's head and stared shamelessly down her cleavage as if he were contemplating whether or not to plunge back into those heavenly depths. Before he could decide, though, Prussia grabbed him, his memories of what had happened last time still fresh in his mind. Of course, he couldn't help but get a good shot of America in her Playmate outfit before he helped Denmark get Netherlands under control.

"I just want to touch the tail," Netherlands was pleading. "Let me stroke the ears!"

" _Abso-fucking-lutely not_!" England roared. He grabbed America's arm. " _You are coming with me young lady_! _No sister of MINE is going to be wandering about looking like a half-naked loon with a rabbit fetish_!"

"What crawled up your ass and died, Iggy?" America pouted but let England push her toward the door.

Of course, they would have been home free if Belarus hadn't decided to pop up out of nowhere. She glared at England angrily, as if daring him to try and get past her.

"I am thinking America likes her outfit," Belarus said. She grabbed America and led her back to her seat. She then hovered behind America, glaring at anyone who tried to approach.

England decided Belarus would be good enough protection to keep any of the more handsy nations away, although there was nothing that could be done about the staring. The meeting ended early once again, to Germany's great annoyance.

* * *

" _Slutty_?" America pouted. "Who the flip-flop says I'm slutty?"

Oh, yes. England and Denmark had desperately come up with the most hair-brained scheme to ever be schemed on Earth. Prussia stood by in amusement, more or less watching just to see it all blow up in their unawesome faces.

"No one said you were slutty, poppet," England said, patting her bunny-eared head. "They were all saying you were _dressing_ slutty."

"This isn't slutty!" America pouted and ignored the fact that she was dressed in a shiny red leotard, fishnets and sky-high pumps. "I'll show them slutty!"

With that America turned and stomped off, steam practically coming out of her ears while Denmark and England stood there, dumbfounded at what had just happened. Despite their intention to have America wear actual clothes to a World Meeting, it seemed everything had backfired.

Prussia laughed and laughed and laughed. On his shoulder, Gilbird laughed and laughed and laughed. And then both of them paused, looked at each other and then laughed evilly in eerie unison.

This was going to be interesting.

* * *

No one said anything for a few long moments. They all just stared.

America was, more or less, naked. Yes, she was also bright blue. But she was… well.

"Mystique is my favorite baddie," she explained, smirking as everyone kept staring. "It's like, she's so multi-dimensional. Plus, Jennifer Lawrence plays her, so win, am I right?"

"Dear God," England groaned. "This is terrible. This is… this is…"

" _Trés magnifique_!" France cried. "Prussia, _mon amie_ , quickly! Take pictures!"

Prussia furiously began to take pictures, dodging Denmark's fist all the while.

"Mia," Canada said, touching his sister's shoulder warily. She looked at her brother, apparently surprised to see him there. "Don't you think, uh… that outfit maybe a bit… much?"

"Nope!" America grinned. "I like it! I'm a strong, independent awesome country who don't need no pants!"

Canada sighed. "I _really_ wish you would wearing _something_ , Mia—"

"I'll give you free pot for life if you wear that bunny outfit to every meeting ever, forever," Netherlands suddenly piped up.

America paused, apparently seriously considering the offer while England gasped and ranted about how he didn't raise a pothead hooligan prostitute.

"I liked the slave outfit," Russia spoke up. "You will wear it again when you become one with Russia, da?"

"I say Wonder Woman," Hungary spoke up. "I'm all about girl power."

"I like that one, too, aru!"

"Ve~! I liked the bunny outfit! Right, _sorella_?"

"Sure. Whatever."

"I like whatever my Lovi likes!"

"I reckon Wonder Woman was right spiffy."

Hearing Australia ring in his opinion snapped Denmark out of it. It apparently reminded Prussia that he didn't like that guy, either, and both of them whirled around, glaring.

"No one asked for _your_ fucking opinion!" Denmark snapped.

" _Ja_ , shut the fuck up!" Prussia cackled. "Vhy don't you go play your fucking didgeridoo and sing about how much you love hopping around vith your stupid kangaroos and koalas in the outback!"

"Actually, my country's not just full of fuzzy animals," Australia said cheerfully. "Most of the things I deal with can kill me in minutes. In fact, I reckon my primary language is screaming."

America laughed loudly and Denmark and Prussia scowled while Australia just looked smug, like he had somehow accomplished something.

* * *

"No funny outfits today, America?" Finland asked as America took a seat by Japan at the meeting the next day.

"Nah. Those were all I had in my arsenal." America sighed. "I think I'm going to order a Power Girl outfit, though. Works with my haircut."

"I think you looked cute in all those outfits!"

"Aw, you're too sweet, Finn." America frowned. "Hey. Where's Mathias?"

As soon as the question left her mouth, Denmark strutted in looking determined. He stood there, waiting to have everyone's attention. Then, like Superman, he ripped his black coat open to reveal a t-shirt. Everyone read the big red letters emblazoned on the chest.

_I'D RATHER BE IN AMERICA_

It took a minute. It then took two minutes. Then Prussia began to laugh hysterically once the joke clicked in his head and America let out a long, "Awwwww!" She got up, skipped over and threw her arms around him.

"I _love_ your shirt!" She then grabbed the lapels of his jacket and yanked him down and kissed him. Not a chaste kiss, either. One that had _a lot_ of tongue.

Once they finally pulled apart, Denmark felt very, very pleased that his point had been made. But he was only pleased for a few moments when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder.

He expected to see England standing there looking like that kid from _The Omen_ or something. But instead he saw Canada glaring at him with unbridled fury. He held a hockey stick in one hand and kept his other hand on Denmark's shoulder.

"I knew someday you'd start dating my little sister," Canada said lowly. America, meanwhile, just sighed and rolled her eyes as if this was no more than a nuisance. "Let's you and me have a chat, _friend_."


	13. A Pillaging Viking Is A Happy Viking

Valentine's Day was not Prussia's favorite holiday by a long shot. He found the entire thing to be entirely annoying and bogus, mostly because couples had an excuse to be even more couple-y in public and make people feel sick when they're forced to watch them act all lovey-dovey.

He had been pretty worried over the fact that Denmark and America were dating and had stressed over what it meant for Valentine's Day.

As it turned out, he had nothing to be worried about. Valentine's Day fell on the same week as a World Meeting, and as a result, they were sort of tied down in Vienna for the week. Prussia had no idea what Denmark and America had spent the day doing, but at night they smuggled in a bunch of alcohol to Prussia's room and all three of them celebrated Valentine's Day like they always did: they got piss drunk and Prussia passed out on his bed.

It wasn't until he was awoken by the sound of 'You Shook Me All Night Long' blaring from what he later discovered was America's laptop that he realized this Valentine's Day was going to suck more than any other Valentine's Day ever.

_What the hell_?! Prussia frowned, his eyes flying open in surprise. He had his back to the room and was glaring at the wall. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to move. It was like his instincts had kicked in somehow.

"Isn't that a little loud?" There was a lot of rustling noises as Denmark spoke and the bed creaked a bit. "Won't it wake him up?"

"He's not awake yet," America replied, but the music was turned down a bit. The bed creaked again and Prussia suddenly heard some suspicious wet noises, like kissing. There was the sound of movement and sheets being moved around and Prussia knew exactly what was going on because he wasn't a total fucking idiot.

He had always been a little leery about them having little to no discretion about PDA and the like, but so far, it hadn't been so bad save for a few minor cases. Mostly it was a lot of little kisses and hand-holding, but nothing Prussia couldn't handle with a simple eye roll. There had been that one time during an Awesome Trio meeting when America had been eating Twinkies and had offered to feed Denmark some.

"They're scrum-diddly-umptious!" She had hovered the Twinkie over his mouth and giggled.

And Denmark's smile had definitely changed really fast. It had gone from that stupid happy-go-lucky grin to something almost scary and predatory as he leaned in close, pushing the Twinkie aside. America's eyes had widened, and Prussia, unnoticed, felt his mouth fall open in surprise.

"Keep saying cute things like that and I won't have any control over what I do to you, Mia!" he had said cheerfully. And then he had taken a bite out of the Twinkie and he just kept smiling.

"Ah… um, that is… yep. Uh-huh." America had quickly shoved the rest of the Twinkie in his mouth in a very un-romantic way (can someone even eat a Twinkie in a romantic way?) and then sort of sat there, looking both nervous and aroused. Prussia had quickly called the meeting to an end and ran off, mumbling about taking his brother out drinking.

That had been the absolute worst of it. He kept waiting for the moment when he'd walk in on them with their pants off or, considering Denmark's apparent lack of self-control, when the Viking would just jump her without any consideration for anyone else who may or may not be present, but it never happened. It seemed that, despite all odds, they did have some discretion.

Or so he thought, because now he was in a hotel room while they were getting it on when they thought he was asleep. Apparently they had been saving the worst possible thing they could do for him.

Prussia figured he had two options. 1) He could announce that he was very awake and run away to go tell everyone but risk seeing Denmark's dick in the process or 2) He could just pretend to be asleep and do his best not to listen and save them all the embarrassment.

Unfortunately for him, Prussia decided that in honor of Valentine's Day, he would let his friends go at it. Just as he was mentally stroking his ego for being such a good guy, he heard something that most certainly made him realize he had made the right decision.

America giggled. "Oh, Denny!"

Prussia's eyes went wide and he pressed his lips together to keep from bursting out in uproarious laughter. _Denny_?! She fucking called him _Denny_ in the heat of the moment?! It was the most awesome moment of the night and it was quickly ruined for him.

"Hang on… lift up your hips, Mia, I can't get your pants off." There was more rustling and the sound of something—America's pants, Prussia would assume—being tossed somewhere in the room. There was more movement before Denmark made a noise of surprise. "Hey, is that my flag on your bra?"

Prussia head America shift a little bit more. "Yeah…"

"Aww!" There was some quick movement and America suddenly let out a peal of girlish laughter. "You're so cute!"

"St-stop tickling m-m-me!" There was suddenly a noise that sounded like someone being smacked and the screaming stopped. "Ah, shit. Did I hit you too hard?"

"Nah, I've had worse." More movement, more rustling, more clothes being thrown somewhere. "Now, where were we…? Oh, yeah. That bra's cute, but it's coming off."

The song then changed to 'Sexyback' and Prussia suppressed a groan. How was he not expected to dance like a crazy person to this sick beat?!

"Hell yeah!" Denmark laughed. Prussia made a face, realizing they weren't even trying to keep quiet anymore. "Oh, perfect!"

His laughter was abruptly cut off and Prussia wondered what had happened. Then he heard those lip-smacking noises. He really wished he had been able to foresee what was going to happen so he could have invested in some earplugs. Because, seriously, these two were _loud_.

Prussia felt movement near his neck and jumped a little. He stilled, hoping America and Denmark didn't notice—after all, he'd just look like a pervert rather than a good Samaritan and no doubt both of them would beat his ass six feet into the ground if they found out—and glanced at what had moved.

It was Gilbird, and the poor little guy was staring at Prussia with wide eyes as if to say, _Dear God, is this really happening_?!

_It is, my poor, awesome friend_ , Prussia sent back. _Endure it with me_! _Be brave_!

Gilbird shuddered and hid his face in Prussia's neck. Prussia, meanwhile, got his game face on and did his best to distract himself, but it was kind of hard to do when America was acting as some kind of very loud narrator about everything Denmark was doing. And the room was getting hotter.

"Okay, you've got a good angle?" America asked breathlessly. Denmark grunted something in reply. "Alright… So are you ever gonna stick it in or— _Ah_!"

Denmark let out a surprisingly loud laugh, all things considered. "Gotcha, did I?!"

"Sh-shut up!" America panted. "M-move!"

After a few moments Prussia could hear the bed moving rhythmically and the creepy noises those two whores were making started to synchronize. Denmark sounded downright hilarious, like a grunting animal or some shit, and America was… well, she was loud.

"Hang on, it's Valentine's Day," Denmark suddenly managed, his voice a little husky. "Should we do it gentle, or—?"

" _Dammit_! We had a good rhythm!" America whined. "You know how I like it, just _do_ something or I'm gonna freak out!"

"Yeah, but it's a special holiday, so I thought—"

" _Less thinking, more humping_."

Denmark laughed. "Yes, ma'am!"

Their activity picked up again and Prussia exchanged a horrified look with Gilbird. What had been heard could not be unheard.

"Oh… _fuck_!" America suddenly halfway shrieked. No doubt half the building was awake now. "Right there! Shit… shit, shit, _shit_ …"

The creaking of the bed got faster and America just got louder while Denmark grunted like some kind of animal more and more. Prussia felt like he was going to die.

"Denny! Pillage me! Pillage me more!"

_Jesus_. Prussia's eyes widened and he found it impossible to keep from laughing. Thankfully, America and Denmark were too loud to hear him or it would have been game over.

Apparently Denmark _did_ pillage America more because after a while she let out a very loud wail and then whimpered. Fucking _whimpered_. The United States of America whimpered after having sex with her boyfriend. No. Fucking. Way.

After some more movement, Denmark let out what Prussia assumed was some kind of jacked-up bear moan or something and all movement ceased.

_Thank God that's over_. Prussia mentally sighed and Gilbird relaxed, though the poor guy looked pretty shaken.

The playlist had moved onto 'S&M', but the music was abruptly cut off so the only sounds in the room were Denmark and America breathing kind of heavy.

"Happy Valentine's Day," America finally said a bit breathlessly. "Fuck. That was awesome."

_No it was NOT_! Prussia pouted.

"Awesome enough for round two?" Denmark asked hopefully.

_Shit_.

* * *

The next day at the meeting, Prussia definitely looked tired. So did Gilbird, who was perched precariously on his shoulder.

He wasn't the only one, either. Everyone else looked downright disturbed.

"Bloody hell, she's not here yet," England grumbled. "Neither is that blasted boyfriend of hers."

"Honononon~! We all heard what they were up to last night, no?" France sighed. "Ah, the sounds of romance penetrated the air last night!"

"Please don't use the vord 'penetrated'," Prussia grumbled, rubbing his temples. "Last night vas so unawesome that I might try to colonize the moon just to get avay from those two idiots."

The doors opened suddenly and America and Denmark walked in looking way too happy. The sat next to each other and pulled out all the paperwork necessary for the meeting.

"Hey, Iggy, woah! You look like shit!" America laughed. "Did you get too much lovin' last night? No sleep?"

"More like I _overheard_ too much loving last night," England snapped. "Could you two have possibly been a little louder?!"

"Probably."

England sputtered as France did his best to calm him down. Meanwhile, Denmark shuddered as Canada glared at him from across the table, displeased at having heard the state his sister had been in last night.

"Hey, you look kinda tired, too," America observed, turning her gaze to Prussia. "Trouble sleeping?"

"I'd fucking say so!" Prussia groaned. "Do you know vhat it's like overhearing your friends getting it on vhile you're trapped there, helpless?!"

"You were listening to us?!" Denmark's eyes narrowed and his aura went from 'I Had Awesome Sex Last Night' to 'I'm Gonna Fucking Cut a Bitch'.

"I overheard everything, _Denny_." At the sight of Denmark's shocked face, Prussia cackled. Several other countries were laughing, too, while America patted his shoulder as comfortingly as she could.

"Would you feel better if I let you pillage me again tonight?" she asked as quietly as she could (which wasn't that quiet at all).

England muttered a curse and France did his best to switch rooms with someone in hopes of getting closer to those two so he could hear them more easily.

Overall, Denmark felt a little bit better considering he was going to be getting some. Although when Canada mouthed, " _I'm going to kill you, hoser_ " and showed off the bowie knife he'd smuggled in there, Denmark hoped he'd still have the equipment for 'pillaging' by nightfall.


	14. Mission Impossible: Cake Protocol

"Is that cake?"

Prussia and Denmark both froze in place, their faces instantly draining of color as America's question reached their ears. Everyone could practically hear the crickets chirping in the dead silence that followed.

"That's a cake," America finally said, her tone very sure. She stepped forward as the two men looked at her and then each other warily. "It looks good!"

Look good it did indeed, America was not wrong on that one. The cake itself was humongous—chocolate, if Denmark recalled correctly. It was covered in a thick layer of blue and yellow icing with cute marshmallow creations that looked kind of like Vikings on long rowboats made of chocolate-covered bananas.

Earlier that day, Denmark had invited Prussia over to enjoy manly bonding, which basically meant they were going to eat meat and watch porn. These were things they couldn't do with America present considering 1) America ate all the meat and 2) America always made commentary on the porn.

America had been cool with being left out in this instance, stating that she and Canada were going to spend the weekend searching for Sasquatch anyway.

A few hours into their manly bonding (they were playing on an old Atari at this point while snarfing down cheddar-filled bratwurst) the doorbell rang and Denmark went to answer. Standing at the door had been Finland clutching a bright blue Tupperware container with a big smile on her face.

Of course Denmark had let her in and of course he had said he could keep that cake at his house until Sve's birthday the next day. He hadn't expected his gluttonous girlfriend to show up anytime soon, anyway, so he had carelessly left it on the kitchen table before going back to kicking Prussia's ass in Pole Position.

But as it turned out, America and Canada had cut their search for Sasquatch short when America realized she forgot to pack Oreos and decided it was a bad omen to the beginning of their hunt, so she had called the whole thing off then and there and decided to pop in on her friends considering she still had a few days off.

Of course, when she'd walked in, her creepy Food Senses started tingling and she had zeroed in on the Tupperware. Luckily, Denmark's intuition picked up just in time and he walked into the kitchen just as America was pulling the lid off.

Prussia, too, had followed, mostly pissed that Denmark ditched out without saying anything, but upon seeing America, he had swooped in and yanked the lid out of her hands and hid the cake as Denmark did his best to distract her by giving her a hello kiss and a hug.

But America had seen cake and she was not going back. She had failed at finding Sasquatch, but she would not fail in her never ending mission to consume any and all food she came across. That, and to dig a hole all the way to China just so she could pop her head out of the ground and yell about making left turns in Albuquerque.

"Can I have some?"

Oh, crap. Denmark instantly began to panic, knowing full well he could never say no to her, but Prussia didn't have such a problem. After all, he wasn't the one having sex with her.

" _Nein_ , you can't," Prussia said confidently, ignoring her narrowed eyes. "Finland says this is for Sveden's birthday, so you'll have to vait like everyone else."

Apparently forgetting that America had an incurable case of entitlement, this reasoning flew right over her head. She simply ignored the comment and began to move in like a lion sneaking up on it's prey.

"Just one bite," she insisted.

Prussia continued to deny her this, but Denmark was having serious problems keeping himself from just handing the cake over with a smile on his face.

But then he really got to thinking. Whose wrath did he want to face? Hungry America or furious Finland? Even though Finny didn't look it, that little bitch was one psycho badass when she wanted to be. Though it kind of made sense—how else could someone stay married to Sweden in his most formidable years? Then again, America was a total psycho badass, too.

Decisions, decisions.

America, meanwhile, was getting to her wit's end. Instead of continuing her argument with Prussia (which consisted of witty zingers like, "Just gimme some, dude" and "No vay, you're not eating this"), she quickly yanked her shirt up and flashed them both. Anything for cake.

The reaction was instant. Both of their mouths fell open and once Denmark got over the initial shock of being given a full-frontal view of her chest, he realized that if he could see her gloriousness, so could Prussia, and Denmark was _not_ having that bullshit.

"Stop fucking looking at her, dumbass!" Denmark punched Prussia in the gut and found himself shoved back. "Hey!"

" _She's_ the one who flashed both of us! How am I not supposed to look?!"

As the two argued, America snuck over, a nasty grin on her face as she yanked the lid off and dipped her finger into the thick blue frosting. She then shoved the glorious sugary glob into her mouth.

Immediately, a chain reaction of doom began. America's sole purpose in that moment was to consume, consume, consume more sugar, like some kind of sugar-focused black hole.

When Denmark realized what had happened, it was far too late. He lunged himself at her before she could shove her face in it and yanked her back. "Prussia, the cake!"

Prussia reattached the lid and America was zoned out as the gears in her mind began to shift all her priorities into the one goal of obtaining and consuming as much sugar as possible.

Denmark quickly tugged America toward the door and instructed Prussia to hide the cake. America silently stood on the doorstep as Denmark gave her a quick kiss, an apology, a "This is for your own good" and then shut the door in her face.

He then stood there for a few long moments when he realized what he had just done. Panicked, he peeked out the window and was surprised to see she was no longer there. A lace of paranoia shot through him and he shouted for Prussia.

Emerging from somewhere in the house, Prussia raised an eyebrow at Denmark's panic. "Vhat?"

"We need to barricade the house."

"Come again?"

Denmark raced into the living room and grabbed his sofa, beginning to drag it to the door. "Mia's only going to try to get in to eat that cake and trust me when I say we do _not_ want Finland on our asses. Chick's a total nutjob, and even worse, if _she's_ pissed, _Sve_ is pissed."

Understanding lit in Prussia's eyes and he nodded, grabbing a dining chair to add to the barricade. Deep down, both of them knew the battle was already lost, but they had to try _something_.

* * *

"And you said this was a waste of money." America laughed. "'When would you ever need a jackhammer, Amelia?' you said. 'That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, Amelia!' you said. Well, well, well. It looks like the skirt is on backwards now, Mattie!"

Canada watched his sister incredulously as she positioned the jackhammer (not just _the_ jackhammer, _her_ jackhammer—one she'd bought for recreational use, originally to find mole people as Canada recalled but had been collecting dust in her storage in recent days) on the sidewalk pavement and grinned almost maniacally. He watched her, unimpressed, as she moved for the power switch.

"You're doing all this for some cake?"

"Not just _a_ cake, Mattie, _the_ cake. European sweets are _way_ better than anything we've got. Except Iggy's, but that's a given." America sighed wistfully. "I will make a sharknado become a reality and destroy Mathias's house if it means I'll get that cake."

"Won't a sharknado also destroy the cake?"

"Pssh!" America shook her head as if Canada had just asked the stupidest question she'd ever heard in her life. "That cake's in Tupperware! Ain't nothing getting through that plastic force field."

"I see."

Canada had more or less shown up to watch America go through incredible lengths to acquire a cake. He never passed up the opportunity to watch his little sister jump through unnecessary hoops to get something as silly as a cake.

"Here we go!" America started the jackhammer up and began to drill. She was going to drill a hole, but she wasn't heading to China yet. She had a much more important destination in mind.

* * *

When Finland opened the door to the bedroom Prussia had hid the cake in, everyone stared in absolute shock.

Denmark and Prussia had spent the night behind a thick layer of furniture that was pressed up against all the doors and most of the windows in the house. Denmark had then raided his old Viking memorabilia and had armed them both to the teeth, an image of Rambo-America jumping through the ceiling vivid in both their minds as they stayed up all night, paranoid and terrified. It was just a well-known fact that you didn't get in the way of America and her food. One way or another, she would get what she wanted, and if someone lost a limb in the process, so be it.

All night they had just heard this loud noise that had shaken the house, but there had been no sign of America. Not until that morning when they found the massive hole in Denmark's kitchen floor.

Of course, that was when Finland decided to show up to collect the cake. Prussia had nervously led them to the room he'd hidden the cake in, which was Denmark's guest room, and had opened the door.

What they saw was not what anyone was expecting because not only was there one North American sibling passed out in a sugar coma on the floor, there was a second one. Both America and Canada were covered in blue and yellow frosting and were sprawled on the bed, snoring peacefully. America had stolen all the covers and had her feet pressed against Canada's back, but if her brother noticed, he didn't seem too bothered. He was probably used to it, having been forced to endure it all throughout their childhood.

"Fuck," Denmark grumbled, throwing his axe on the ground. "Failure."

"Failure is not in my awesome vocabulary," Prussia said half-heartedly, knowing full-well that they had certainly failed. He was even more horrified that he wasn't at all surprised by it.

Finland had yet to say anything. Both men looked at her nervously as she fished around in her pockets and yanked out a cell phone. She silently took a picture, giggled, and then sent it to England so he could thoroughly coo and sputter about how cute they were.

"Thanks for trying you guys," Finland said, giving them both reassuring smiles. "Although it did take me a long time to make that cake… Although I bet France has something. I would be surprised if he didn't."

"You're… not mad?"

"No." Finland giggled. "Truthfully, I see a lot of myself in those two. That's why I brought the cake here, so I wouldn't eat it. So if they hadn't gotten to it, I would have. Besides, Sea made scones for him and I know that'll make him really happy, even if those things are… well, you know. It's the thought that counts."

Prussia and Denmark nodded in understanding as Finland excused herself and wished them a nice day.

Meanwhile, Canada stirred from his slumber. As he moved, he jerked America awake. She shot up, blinking in surprise as she saw her friends standing in the doorway, staring at her and her brother.

With uncharacteristic silence, America grabbed her brother and proudly marched out of the room victorious, down the stairs and to the kitchen. The both of them then jumped into the hole she'd drilled in the floor and made their way outside. Denmark and Prussia looked out the window and saw them climb out of the other side of the hole and then head off into the sunset, Indiana Jones style.

"Vhat the hell?" Prussia grumbled. "Vhy did they climb out the hole vhen they could have just used the door?!"


	15. Nature Doesn't Have Netflix

"Uh, this may have been a mistake."

If Prussia and Denmark had a nickel for every time America said that, they'd have one nickel. She _never_ admitted to a mistake, even if she had blatantly done something wrong. It was a bit strange, too, considering as far as America's many "mistakes" went, this one wasn't exactly high on the totem pole. For example, there was the time America had convinced Denmark that it would be a good idea for him to dye his hair red so his hair could match his flag. That had been a mistake. And then there had been the April Fool's Day "prank" that America had pulled on Prussia wherein she buried him alive (and he totally had no sense of humor about it, either). That had been a mistake as well. Then there had been the time she'd conned them into the Yakuza while they were in Japan "for fun" and the time she had had herself locked in a safe and thrown into the ocean just to see if she could escape before she drowned. All of those things had been mistakes.

So convincing the guys to join a wolf pack with her was not exactly the craziest or most embarrassing thing she'd done before. But still, things were looking pretty bad.

They had been looking pretty good at first, though. America had announced that it was hunting season and had invited Denmark and Prussia over to join her in wilderness carnage. They had been quick to agree as they had never been the type to pass up the opportunity to shoot at something and found themselves in bright orange hunting gear in the middle of some forest in northern Minnesota.

It had started out fun enough, but it didn't take long to realize that they were horribly lost when America attempted to guide them back to her cabin when the sun began to set.

She tried to play it off like she was just joking around, of course. Then when she couldn't bluff her way through that any longer, she announced that she wanted to sleep under the stars anyway and plopped down underneath a tree. The guys followed suit since this wasn't their land and they, too, had no clue where they were.

But during the night they had been found by the wolves.

Of course, since none of them had any sense of self-preservation, they weren't scared in the least. That's when America decided they should join the wolf pack because it would be fun and "a good life experience".

"Are you sure ve can do something like this?" Prussia had asked uncertainly as a nearby wolf eyed him. "I mean, ve aren't volves, so…"

"I've been reading a lot of Jack London," America had replied, brushing his concern aside easily enough. "I've got this."

_I've got this_ translated into her talking very slowly in both English and Spanish, barking and howling in between words and using very large hand gestures as she attempted to communicate with the wolves. Somehow, someway, God was smiling down at America and decided to grant her and her friends entrance into a wolf pack.

Things were good for the first few hours. Those first few hours mostly involved all of them lazing around while the wolves investigated them thoroughly. However, after discovering that being part of a wolf pack meant they would have to sleep in a cave and live without Netflix, America's opinion of being in a pack took a total 180 and she began to panic.

"What if we don't find civilization in time for the new season of _Orange is the New Black_?! Oh, God, no!" She began to tug at her hair while Denmark attempted to calm her down. "Oh, God, I _just_ started watching _Weeds_! I can't live without television! What was I _thinking_?!"

"As usual, I doubt you vere."

"Shut _up_ Prussia!" America threw herself at Denmark, who wobbled a little when he caught her. "If we stay out here there's no beer! Don't you understand?!"

"I thought you wanted your life to be like a Jack London book, babe," Denmark said while Prussia began to have a bit of a meltdown. In truth, Denmark liked being in the wilderness. It reminded him of his younger days. Also, forest sex rocked.

"Fuck Jack London!" she wailed. "If anyone's writing my life story it's Mark Twain! That guy knew how to party!"

"How about we try to sneak away?" Denmark ventured as he watched his girlfriend go into further hysterics. "We could try to find a town or something. It's not like we're damsels in distress or—"

"Mark Tvain?" Prussia rolled his eyes. He was a bit moody considering he'd gone roughly twenty-four hours without beer. "Herman Melville's much better."

"What the _fuck_ did you just say to me?!" America snapped, prepared to lunge at Prussia. "Who the _fuck_ do you think you are trying to lecture me about American literature?!"

"I think he was just stating an opinion, Mia."

After some more threats and a conciliation between America and Prussia, who both found common ground after discovering that they both appreciated Kurt Vonnegut, they decided to take Denmark's advice and brave the forests of Minnesota and hopefully free themselves from their new wolf family.

"I'm going to miss the call of the wild," America commented as they began their trek. "I mean, the wolves never even got upset when I didn't wear a bra. I wish society was more like a pack of wolves."

" _I_ don't mind when you don't wear a bra," Denmark commented while Prussia eagerly nodded in agreement.

"Daw, you guys are so nice!"

As they walked throughout the day, they quickly began to realize that they were being followed by their old wolf pack.

"Are they going to kill us?" Denmark wondered, frowning as he saw another one ghosting in the treeline. "Maybe we should scare them off?"

"They're _wolves_ , Mathias!" America pointed out. "You can't reason with these guys!"

It was then decided that the best course of action would be to just stick to the plan of hopefully stumbling across civilization.

"Hey!" Prussia suddenly cried in delight. "Gilbird came vith us!"

He opened up his pocket and sure enough, his little yellow bird fluttered out and landed cheerfully on Prussia's head.

"Gilbird, this is very important!" Prussia said urgently. Gilbird ignored him and cleaned his feathers. "This is a matter of life and death! Quickly, you must find someone and get us some help before ve are killed! Do you understand, Gilbird?!"

Gilbird seemed to sigh in annoyance and then puffed up his feathers and flew off. The three of them cheered and waited patiently for Gilbird to return.

When he did, he didn't bring back anyone. All he brought back was a twig. But he looked so proud of himself that no one had the heart to tell him he hadn't helped in the least. Prussia quickly encouraged him to fly off and get "something vith a heartbeat", but Gilbird just came back with an army worm. Gilbird then no longer needed any coaxing and began to fly off and grab useless rubbish and fly it back to them as the three trudged through the Minnesotan wilderness.

When night fell, America volunteered to take the first shift and stay awake to keep the wolves away while Prussia and Denmark slept. But while Denmark was attempting to sleep, America shook him awake desperately. He rolled over, frowning at being woken up.

" _What_?"

America narrowed her eyes at his snippy tone and Denmark quickly sat up, panicked. In his moment of half-consciousness he had snapped at his precious hamburger-loving angel.

"Sorry, babe, I'm sorry! I'm just tired and grouchy from being hunted by wolves."

"Hmph." America just gave an off-handed shrug and seemed to brush the incident off. "Well, I was wondering about, you know, Nordic gods and stuff. Is there, like a god of hunting or wolves or…?"

"Odin was a god of hunting, among other things," Denmark said thoughtfully. "And then there's Fenrir. He was this giant wolf—"

"Not to sound like a bitch, but do you think sacrificing Prussia to Odin or Fenrir or whatever will make these wolves not kill us?"

Denmark stared at her for a few long moments. "…No."

"I was _kidding_!" America smacked his arm and gave him an eyeroll. "God. No one ever gets my jokes. Well, except Aussie. Wonder what that crazy bastard's up to. Will I ever even see him again!?"

How did fucking Australia worm his way into this conversation? Denmark frowned and sat up as America sighed thoughtfully. "Being stranded out here beats having to see that asswipe again."

"You're funny!" America smacked him on the back good-naturedly. "Sorry, I'm just bored."

"We're literally being hunted right now."

"I know that!" She frowned. "Anyway, I'll just call someone and talk to them. You can get some rest."

"Thanks." Denmark lay back down for a few long moments as he heard America rustle through her pockets and produce a bright blue cell phone. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him and he sat up. "Have you had your phone with you this entire time?!"

"Yeah."

"We could have used the GPS!"

America frowned and scratched at an imaginary beard. "Huh. That's an idea."

Denmark grinned and before anyone could do anything, the wolves made their move. America shrieked like a banshee when one of them lunged at her and attempted to chomp down on her knee. Luckily, Denmark grabbed her and then kicked Prussia in the stomach to wake him up. Prussia grumbled angrily until he saw a snarling, drooling wolf running at him and attempted to sprint off.

Not before America decided to try to sacrifice him to the wolves, though.

That's right. America picked Prussia up off the ground and then threw him in the direction of the wolf pack, screaming something about Prussia being a delicacy and them sprinted off with Denmark and Gilbird, who had been quick to land in America's hair.

Lucky for Prussia, he was used to being thrown at things and he managed to get back on his feet and catch up with his friends.

It was a miracle, but they eventually lost the wolves, at least temporarily. But that wasn't what distracted America quite suddenly.

"What _is_ this place?" she asked, her tone awed. Denmark, meanwhile, was still doubled-over and had been breathing heavily while Prussia was muttering German curses under his breath about finding real friends who wouldn't throw him at wolves. "It kind of smells like maple syrup. And I sort of want to eat a lot of doughnuts and get a mullet."

"Please don't," Denmark wheezed.

"This must be a new country," America cried. "I've discovered a new country! Yahoo! Manifest Destiny, you're back, baby!"

America then became so busy loudly chanting "U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!" and "We're number one! We're number one!" that she didn't notice her brother standing there with his polar bear.

"Mia, knock it off," he finally said, causing America to gasp and whirl around. "This isn't a new country. It's me, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." America's shoulders slumped, but she perked up quickly. "Hey! Got any pancakes ready?"

"Don't I always?" Canada glanced at Prussia, who was scolding Gilbird for ditching him. "Hey, anyone else who wants pancakes can tag along. My house isn't very far. Were you guys lost in the woods or something?"

America was smiling and talking a mile a minute about what had happened and Prussia was cheerfully trailing them, chiming in ever so often.

Denmark, meanwhile, strayed several steps behind them all.

"Mathias, what's wrong?" America paused and frowned at him. "You don't like pancakes?"

He was about to reply that these days pancakes were primary nightmare fuel, but Canada answered for him, a diabolical look coming over his face.

"Oh, nonsense. Everyone loves my pancakes!" He grinned devilishly, not that America noticed, of course. "I'll even make Denmark some _special_ pancakes."

"Aw, you're so nice, Mattie!" America grabbed her brother's arm and dragged him off. Meanwhile, Denmark glanced back at the woods thoughtfully, wondering if he should takes his chances with the wolves.


	16. You Can't Just Mime Away Your Problems

The front door of the German brothers' house flew off its hinges and crashed into the ground, splintering and shattering with the sheer force of the hit. Germany and Prussia both gaped as America burst in and turned to look at them with big, blue eyes.

"Vhat the hell is happening here?!" Germany shouted. "This is ridiculous! Destroying the—"

America burst into tears and flopped into Germany's arms like a dead fish that was sobbing. He stood there, looking sort of panicked and confused by the whole thing and ended up dropping her.

Instead of falling to the ground, she was caught by Prussia, who looked just as panicked and confused as Germany. However, he also had a strange urge to always comfort sobbing women, mostly because his instincts told him they would be easy to coerce into bed. Also because he was a nice guy deep down, but he would die before acknowledging the fact.

"Vhat should ve do?" Prussia managed to choke out as America flung her arms around his neck and nearly strangled him with the force of her grip. "Ve should probably call Dane—"

"NO!" America jerked back and grabbed Prussia's face, forcing him to look into her red, teary eyes. "Do _not_ call that asshole! I never want to see him again!"

Prussia stood there, shell-shocked and exchanged glances with Germany.

"Vhat should ve do?" Prussia asked again as America pulled him into another rib-crushing hug.

Germany shrugged and backed out of the house. "Not my chair."

And with that, Germany was gone, leaving Prussia to comfort a hysterical superpower who kept babbling about how much she hated Denmark and how it was all his fault for being a bastard.

That's when an axe broke through the wall of the house and Denmark stepped through. Prussia was about to complain that America had already destroyed their front door and Denmark could have just walked through there, but the words died out before they even left his lips when he saw the look of absolute, sheer fury on the guy's face.

" _You_!" America snarled, shoving Prussia away from her. She leveled a finger at him and gave him the dirtiest look she could manage. "I told you to stay the fuck away from me, you needle dick!"

" _Needle dick_?!" Denmark grabbed his axe from the massive hole he had made in the wall and glared at her. "You really want to insult my cock when you _know_ what you did?"

"What _I_ did?!" America roared. " _What I did_?! I'll _never_ forgive you for what you did, shithead! _NEVER_!"

"Never forgive _me_? Fine! If you feel that strongly then _no more sex for you_!"

America gasped. "Really?! No more sex for _me_?! No more sex for _you_! Ever! If you come near me again, I'll make you _IMPOTENT_!"

Prussia, meanwhile, stood by, his eyes darting between them with each insult like he was watching a verbal tennis match. Part of him wondered what was going on between them and another part of him hoped that if they were about to duke it out they would at least have the courtesy of doing it elsewhere to avoid further damage to the house.

"You know what?! I'm done here!" America walked over to another not-destroyed section of the wall, yanked her baseball bat from her cleavage and then, to Prussia's horror, she smashed another human-sized hole to step through. "I hope you buy a puppy and then it runs away! Fuck you!"

And with that, she was gone.

"Like I care if she's mad," Denmark grumbled while Prussia sadly started grabbing bits of the demolished wall, wondering if he could use some crazy glue to put it back together. "I'm holding my own. I'm _not_ apologizing first."

" _Ja_ , be a hero for all men," Prussia agreed halfheartedly. "Also you should be a bro and help clean this shit up, because Vest is going to be _so_ pissed vhen he sees this."

"I mean, she's not _always_ right," Denmark grumbled. "If this turns into the footnote era all over again, I _swear_ I'll… I'll…"

Prussia glanced over at Denmark as he trailed off and slumped his shoulders, his eyes lost in thought until he let out a terrified gasp and turned to Prussia with big eyes.

"I've made a huge mistake," he said gravely.

"Vell, vhat happened?"

"That's not important right now." Denmark yanked out his cell phone and quickly rung America up on speed dial. "I've got to apologize, I've got to beg for forgiveness or… _something_."

"Vay to stick to your convictions, you Nancy."

"Shut the fuck up for a moment." Both of them were quiet as Denmark waited for America to pick up. His face brightened the moment she did, but it fell only a second later.

" _Fuck. You_."

"Mia, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

_Click_.

Denmark tried dialing again, but he was met with no answer. Grumbling in frustration, he turned to Prussia. "You need to help me."

"Vhy should I, you fucker? I'm pretty fucking busy and now that your dumb ass chopped a fucking hole in my vall, I'm… uh…"

Denmark picked up his axe and narrowed his eyes. "You're going to help me or _I'll_ make _you_ impotent."

* * *

"Mia…" Canada said slowly. "Not that I don't like being kidnapped and being forced to listen to Taylor Swift for hours and hours and hours, but…"

"What happened, mate?"

America's house was filled with people she had dubbed "her only real friends", which meant she had grabbed Canada, Australia, Japan and England (Iggy had put up a fight, though, and had been _accidentally_ knocked unconscious when Australia _accidentally_ hit him in the head with his boomerang… accidentally, of course) and had forced them to stay at her house so they could watch her cry, scream profanities, throw darts at a picture of Denmark and listen to Taylor Swift non-stop.

In response to Australia's question, America set her bucket of ice cream aside and turned down the music (if you could call it that).

"It's…" Her face contorted between pure rage and absolute depression. "He… well, I was… that is, he was here, and my… he…"

"Hold the phone." Canada's eyes widened and his mouth twitched into something that looked a little bit _too_ similar to a smile. "Are you and Denmark fighting?"

"What's that?" Australia, too, looked a bit _too_ excited. "Did you give him the pink slip, then?"

"No!" America whined. "Although… I don't know. He did a really shitty thing."

"Oh? What's that?" Canada asked, leaning forward a bit excitedly. "Are you going to kill him?"

"I've got some poisonous things with me if you want to borrow one," Australia offered.

America paused and gave that some thought.

Suddenly, England let out a screech and shot up, looking around the room in shock. "What the… where the fuck am I?!"

" _Language_!" Australia snapped, cracking England over the head again with his boomerang. England's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell over, once more unconscious. "Haha, oops. It's a bit of an instinct, I reckon, to smash poms in the head."

Kyle the Koala glanced down at England's unconscious form and muttered, "Fucking pom."

* * *

The next day, there was a knock at America's door. She frowned when she answered and narrowed her eyes.

"What. The _fuck_. Is this?"

The sing-o-gram person looked absolutely terrified. He was carrying a balloon that looked like the Danish flag and a red heart box of chocolates.

"Uh… sing-o-gram for Miss Amelia F. Jones?" he asked nervously.

America groaned and motioned for him to get on with it. The sing-o-gram cleared his throat and began to sing and dance a bit.

" _Mathias says sorry_! _Mathias says sorry_! _Hi-ho the derry-o, Mathias says sorry_!"

By this time, Canada, Australia, Japan and a now-conscious England were hovering behind her, very unimpressed. Apparently America was feeling pretty unimpressed, too, because she grabbed the shotgun that was leaning by her door. The sing-o-gram screamed and turned, flinging the chocolates aside as he raced off. America quietly aimed her gun while the others all gaped at her, wondering if she was actually going to kill the sing-o-gram guy when she fired.

Turns out she had been aiming for the balloon. After hitting her target (dead-on, as always), she turned the safety back on and then put the gun down and slammed the door shut.

"Do all Americans have shotguns by their doors?" Japan finally asked once America had furiously slunk off towards the kitchen, presumably to get more ice cream.

* * *

The next day, there was a knock at Denmark's door. He grinned when he answered and started clapping his hands like an excited child.

"Well, well, well, looks like _someone_ liked her sing-o-gram!" he called into the house where Prussia was all tied up a chair Sweden had made for him for his birthday last year. After the German had refused to come with him to Denmark for "bro-motional support", the Dane had smashed Prussia's head through the wall (and thus made another hole) and then had dragged him off. "Although… this guy looks more like a mime."

The mime was, in fact, France, who America had convinced England to blackmail into dressing up like a mime and then had shipped off to Denmark. France gave Denmark a pitiful, reluctant look and then began to mime very poorly, although Denmark never would have known since he didn't make it a habit to go mime-watching all the time.

Quite suddenly, France pulled out a large lemon meringue pie. Denmark made a noise of delight until France unceremoniously smashed the pie into Denmark's face.

"Zat was from America," France informed, as if Denmark hadn't already guessed. "She has a message as well. She says, ' _Go suck your own dick since you love it so much_.'"

Denmark wiped some of the pie bits out of his eyes and then glared at France. "I thought mimes weren't supposed to talk. If you have that much trouble keeping your mouth shut, you'll have problems staying in character. If you'd like, I can make you a mute."

As Denmark began to ominously pull out his axe to chop up his chosen scapegoat, France backed off, terrified.

" _Zut alors_ , you two are perfect for each other!" With that, France ran off before his voice box could be hacked out with an axe.

Prussia, who had been struggling against his binds the whole time, paused when he saw Denmark walk in covered in white cream. He snorted. "That's vhat you get for being a bitch."

* * *

"VAKE UP!"

America let out a tiny shriek of surprise and fell out of her bed. Prussia, meanwhile, was standing in the middle of her bedroom with Denmark, who was all tied up and slung over his shoulder. He threw Denmark onto America's bed just as her four hostages appeared in the doorway, curious about what was going on.

That's right. Prussia had gotten himself free and he definitely had something to say. He actually had a _few_ somethings to say, and not many of them were nice things.

"I don't know _vhat_ happened, but being held hostage does things to a man!" Prussia snarled. "Gilbird's probably vorried sick about me! He's probably _dying_!"

* * *

Meanwhile, in Budapest, Gilbird was perched on Hungary's kitchen table, very fat and very full after Hungary had spent the better part of three days cooing over him and overfeeding him until he was so fat that it was unlikely he would be flying anytime soon. And somewhere in the haze of his food coma, Gilbird sort-of wondered for a brief moment where Prussia was.

* * *

"Now for the love of all that is holy, vhat the fuck are you to fighting about?!"

America pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. Denmark, meanwhile, sniffed and distracted himself by trying to break free of his binds.

"I'm a bit curious myself," England piped up. Japan nodded beside him. "Amelia's been in quite a tizzy for the last few days. I'm curious—did you eat the last slice of cake or something drink all the chocolate milk in her house and send her into a fit, Denmark?"

"No, he did something worse!" America burst.

"Not as bad as what _you_ did!" Denmark snapped back. He looked pleased with standing up for himself until America turned to level him with a glare. That caused him to quiet down and focus more vigorously on breaking through his bonds.

"Go on, mate, we're here for support," Australia halfway cooed, walking in to sit next to America and pat her shoulder. It was a relatively innocent gesture, but it made Denmark see red.

"Thanks, Jack." America sighed as Kyle let her snuggle him. "It all started about three weeks ago when I finally got around to buying Grand Theft Auto V."

"I love that game," Canada piped up, although no one seemed to hear him. England, meanwhile, rolled his eyes, knowing full well where this was going.

"I may have gotten just a little bit excited about it and I was a little bit sucked into the game—"

"' _A little bit_ '?" Denmark echoed incredulously. "After not hearing from you for a week, I came over and had to bust the door down! The lights were all shut off, the curtains were drawn, and you were sitting on the floor, covered by a blanket, surrounded by empty chip bags and old soda cans!"

"I get really into these things, okay?!" America snapped. "Anyway, _someone_ got all butt hurt that I wasn't texting him 'I love you' at three in the morning, so he—"

"I was upset that you didn't speak to me for another two weeks after I came over," Denmark snapped. "And when I came over again, there was an even bigger mountain of trash and I'm pretty sure you hadn't seen the sun in _weeks_! So I did what any rational person would have done. I got worried."

" _Worried_?!" America wailed. "You unplugged my videogame _before I could save_. I was finally getting around to delivering the cocaine to my buyer after having a helluva time shaking the popo, but noooo! Mathias just _has_ to ruin everything _forever_!"

America then buried her face in Kyle's fur and didn't move or make any noise for several long moments. Finally, Prussia spoke up and said what was on everyone's minds.

"That's it?!" Prussia smacked them both upside the head and grumbled about how he couldn't believe he was the most mature person in their trio. "Grow the fuck up!"

"I say good on you, Dane," England said, ignoring the look of utter betrayal America gave him. "Someone had to get her out of the house."

"I like videogames as well, but I've seen what playing too many does to someone," Japan mumbled, thinking about the time he had had a similar ordeal with South Korea. "It was probably for the best, Amelia-chan."

"Kiku, how could you?" America whimpered.

Canada and Australia were quick to come to America's aide, though Canada mostly did so to spite Denmark and Australia did it because he was secretly hoping that America would cry on his shoulder.

"This is a stupid thing to argue about," Prussia snapped. "Kiss and make up before I stab someone."

Denmark glanced at America. America looked up from Kyle's fur and glanced at Denmark. Several seconds of tense silence passed and everyone wondered just how long it would take to get these two to reconcile.

That's when America threw Kyle back at Australia and hugged Denmark tightly. Denmark would have hugged back, but damn, Prussia was good with knots.

"I'm so sorry I ignored you and became a crazy videogame hermit!"

"I'm so sorry I barged in and ruined your game without considering how you'd feel!"

When their making-up got a little too handsy (well, on America's part, anyway—she realized that Denmark was all tied up before and perfectly primed for apology pantsless dancing), everyone slunk out of the house, relieved to go home.

Prussia glanced back at America's house, a small smirk and a sense of self-satisfaction for putting an end to a ridiculous argument making him feel good. Although he did kind of wish he had someone he could argue with like that.

When he got home, he called for Gilbird, worried about the little guy. However, once he stepped into the kitchen, he blinked in surprise.

Gilbird was happily perched in a small gold birdcage and he looked just a little bit chubbier. Prussia pulled a small note off the cage and cocked his head to the side as he read it.

_Prussia—_

_Gilbird flew in looking a little worried, so I made him some snacks, but I may have gone overboard? Oh, well! Better too much than too little, right? That's what America told me once, anyway. But I got a little worried when you didn't come by to try and find him. Call me once you get this, I'm a bit anxious._

_—Hungary_

_P.S. You need to get some real food in your house. There's nothing but potatoes here just like last time, I checked. If you don't start eating better, I'll photoshop you kissing Austria. I mean it._

"Oh, bruder, you're back," Germany said as he stepped into the kitchen. "Eh? Who's the letter from?"

Prussia folded the paper and stuck it in his pocket before he reached into the cage and rubbed Gilbird's head. "It's nothing. Don't vorry about it." He then found his phone on the kitchen counter and scrolled through his contacts. He needed to make a phone call.


	17. Even A Hero Can Fall pt. 1

On August 6th, America never left her house. No one would see head nor tail of her until the 10th, and it usually took some time for her to revert back to her normal self. Everyone knew why America secluded herself during that time of the year and it was just sort of an unspoken rule that you didn't bother her and you didn't ask questions. She wanted her alone time and the other countries respected that.

Unfortunately it meant that there was a member missing from the Awesome Trio outing on the 9th. And double unfortunately, Denmark was dating her and had no clue how to cheer her up.

"She doesn't vant to be cheered up, man," Prussia said. They were sitting in an Irish pub with England, who they had decided to let fill in the space for America for the day. He had been coerced when promised free drinks. "She vants to be left alone right around now. It's tough remembering some of the shitty stuff ve've all done, but man, she _really_ fucked shit up that day."

"He's right," England said in a surprising turn of events. "Amelia feels bloody awful this time of the year. Just leave her be, she'll bounce back like always."

Denmark fell silent and gripped his mug of beer thoughtfully. "But maybe she does want someone to comfort her. You know Mia, she's not one to ask for stuff like that. She hates feeling weak."

"If she wanted comfort she would have come to me or her brother," England replied matter-of-factly. "But you are right in saying that I know her. And trust me when I say that she wants to be left alone. The only thing she hates more than having to ask for help is appearing weak in front of others."

All three of them took a swig of beer and Denmark let his mind wander. He had last seen her on the 4th and she had already looked awful, like she hadn't slept in a few days. He knew she dreaded this time of the year. They'd been friends for a while, but back during the second World War, they hadn't exactly been close.

The first time he met her was when England brought her to a party at France's house. She had still been very young, only a kid. He remembered hearing England bragging about how cute she was and how strong she was, but he had taken England's boasting with a grain of salt. The guy always tended to blow things out of proportion to make himself look good. Denmark was sure it was because England didn't want anyone commenting on how short he was.

But damn if America hadn't been the cutest little button Denmark had ever seen. Of course, back then, he hadn't been attracted to her _like that_. But the first time they had met… that brought a smile to his face whenever he thought about it now.

"America, honey, these are the Nordics," England had said. Denmark hadn't seen her at first and had wondered if this 'America' had been nothing more than one of England's imaginary friends until a little face peeked around his pant leg. "Come now, Amelia, don't play shy, I know you're not like that at all. Say hello."

When she still didn't move, England sighed and reached behind him, gently tugging her out. She wore a cute blue dress full of ruffles and bows and lace. She looked exactly like an itty-bitty doll.

At the time, Iceland had only been a bit older than she was, but as it was, he had been shorter. He blushed the moment she stepped out shyly.

"This is my colony, America," England said enthusiastically. "America, this is my friend Norway and his little brother Iceland. This here is Miss Finland and Mr. Sweden and here we have Denmark."

"What, no 'Mister Denmark'?" Denmark had asked a bit dryly.

"You're not worthy of a formal title," Norway had remarked. "Do you want to go play with America, Iceland? I'm sure they might find the party boring."

"Can we play with that?!" America suddenly asked. Everyone was a bit surprised at how loud she was, given her shy act before. It seemed England had been right, though. She wasn't shy at all.

She was also trying to snatch Denmark's beloved axe away.

"Woah, woah, woah, kiddo, I'm going to stop you right there." Denmark quickly held the axe out of her reach and shook his head. "Mr. Denmark says no to the axe. You might wreck it or something."

" _That's_ why you don't want a kid to play with an axe?" Finland asked, rubbing her temples. "Not because she might impale herself or others? Because you don't want her to ruin it?"

Sweden didn't say anything, but Denmark could feel him silently judging from behind Finland.

"It's an amazing fucking axe, you motherfucker!" he snapped at Sweden. Sweden just raised an eyebrow and continued to say nothing.

"Hey!" England placed his hands quickly over America's ears. The little girl looked a bit confused, but she didn't try to move. "Watch your language! I don't want her to pick up on such crass langua—"

America pulled away suddenly and grabbed Iceland's hand. "I'm bored. Let's go play, motherfucker!"

Her and Iceland ran off while Norway's lips twitched a little into something almost like a smile. Finland let out one laugh before she quickly covered her mouth with her hand and Sweden took a big gulp of wine to cover up his own smile. Denmark, meanwhile, rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Whoops. Guess kids pick up on stuff like that… haha." He began to slink off, hoping someone, anywhere, would get him out of this awkward situation.

"I dearly hope you never have children," Norway commented, his face back to it's neutral boredom. "You'll probably let them run around with axes."

"And none of them will know each other's names," Finland said, giggling a little. "They'll all just call each other 'motherfucker'."

Sweden smirked and England let out a chuckle, seemingly pacified by the chit-chat.

Denmark had nearly forgotten about the incident until later, when the party had really started to get going. Someone had tugged on his pant leg and he turned around and smiled awkwardly down at America, whose cheeks were flushed red.

"Hey, kid," he greeted, kneeling down a bit so he didn't loom over her so much. "What's up? You looking for your… what is he, your brother? Your dad?"

"I'm not looking for England," she said, blushing some more. She then handed him a heart-shaped cookie—the same kind they'd been serving all night.

"Ah… thanks." Denmark grinned. "Hey, you look kind of like Miss Finland. Anyone ever tell you that?"

"Mm… no."

"Something bothering you? You sick or something?" Denmark was a little alarmed, worried she was going to ralph all over his shoes or something.

"N-no." Suddenly she kissed his cheek and Denmark's eyes widened. She giggled, no longer shy, and clapped her hands. "I think you're handsome!"

"You've got good taste, kid." He ruffled her hair and moved to stand up again.

"I'm not 'kid'." She pouted. "I'm Amelia!"

"Eh, fine, fine." Denmark grinned. "How about I call you Mia? You like that?" When she nodded, he added. "I'm Mathias."

She smiled at him sweetly and then said, "I'm gonna have your babies someday."

The Bad Touch Trio, who had been nearby, both snapped to attention. Spain sighed and gave Denmark and understanding look (he had gone through something similar with Romana) while France looked amused and Prussia rolled his eyes.

"She knows vhat she vants," Prussia observed, clapping Denmark's back. Denmark made a face and moved away from him, automatically moving America away from him, too. "She'll be a tough one someday."

"Isn't she lovely?" France cooed. Denmark automatically moved her away again, this time from France's grabby hands. "She'll be beautiful someday, I can tell! A gorgeous vision, like Aphrodite walking ze Earth!"

"Calm down," Prussia said. "You're on the edge of pedophilia again."

France pouted, but did as Prussia said.

"Ah, I remember when Lovi was so small and cute like that!" Spain sighed blissfully. "Not that I don't like her now. But she used to say things like that to me, too." He frowned. "I wonder if she doesn't tell me those things anymore because I don't have an armada?"

"Oh, no, this again," Prussia grumbled. France made a noise of agreement while Spain began to babble about Romana and his armada and damn England.

As Denmark quickly moved America away from the Bad Touch Trio, the little girl tugged on his pants again. "Hey, Mr. Denmark. I'm gonna marry you, too, okay?"

"Ah…" Denmark shifted awkwardly as he looked around for England. "Sure, kid, sure."

America pouted and then, in a surprising display of strength, she grabbed Denmark's hand and yanked down, _hard_ , forcing him to his knees so she could look him in the eye.

"I _mean_ it," she whined. "I like you because you're really, really strong. The strongest! And someday I'm going to be the biggest and the strongest, too! And then I'm gonna marry you and we'll have a million babies."

"I don't know about a million, kid… ah, I mean, Mia." He gave her an apologetic smile. "But I don't doubt you'll be big and strong."

"Amelia? There you are!" England suddenly scooped America up into his arms and smoothed down her skirts. "You must be getting tired. It's well past your bedtime."

"I'm gonna marry Mr. Denmark," America informed England. Raising a massive eyebrow, England glanced at America's self-proclaimed fiancé.

"Are you, now?" England and Denmark exchanged small smiles. "How about you say goodnight to your suitor, then?"

America laughed and blew Denmark a sloppy kiss. "Bye-bye, Mr. Denmark!"

"Bye, Mia. Nice to meet you."

England began to turn and then suddenly stopped short. "Hold on. Amelia, where's your brother?"

Denmark let out a yelp as he felt something kick him roughly in the shins. He looked down and saw a little boy glaring up at him with violet eyes.

"Matthew, there you are! Where have you been this whole time?" England suddenly grabbed the boy's hand and sighed. "Honestly, you're always disappearing. It could be dangerous! If that bloody frog sees you he'll probably try to kidnap you and teach you more French or something."

Denmark rubbed his leg and frowned. Damn, that kid could really kick. Who the hell was he?!

* * *

"Huh." Denmark smiled a little at the memory. Colony America had been adorable, but he definitely preferred her now. Although this recent bout of self-hatred was something he could do without.

Taking one final chug of his drink, he slid off the barstool and threw on his coat. Prussia and England looked at him curiously.

Prussia, naturally, figured it out first. "Oh. You're going to see her, huh?"

"That's really not a good idea," England said, frowning. "I'm not going to try to stop you, but—"

"Save it." Denmark tilted his head. "I'm off. Bye."

Prussia and England watched him leave, then exchanged glances and returned to drinking.


	18. Even A Hero Can Fall pt. 2

"Crazy fucker," Prussia grumbled as Denmark left. England made a small noise of agreement. "So. You and France, huh?"

England choked on his beer and Prussia roared with laughter.

"You crazy fuck! That's not something to joke about!" England stood up and threw on his own coat. "I'm off. If you see my brother, tell him to go fuck himself, if you'd be so kind."

Prussia snorted and ordered another drink. He'd never admit it, but inwardly, he was pretty damn worried about America, too. After all, he'd never really met anyone like her before. Friends that batshit crazy only came around once, even if you were sort-of immortal.

He sighed. That bitch had learned almost everything she knew from him. Like hell England had taught her those cool kickass moves. That had been him, through and through. He had seen it during both World Wars and had been impressed with how much she'd progressed. She'd handed Germany and Prussia's asses to them when they'd met in battle. She'd even had enough talent to beat them up without even using her superior strength, although Prussia had taught her to _always_ use every advantage available to her, so unfortunately for him, she had very much so used her strength and had absolutely wiped the floor with him. Germany had been K.O.'d only moments later.

He hadn't even been mad. When someone kicked his ass like that, he was usually pissed as all hell, but in the shadow of his utter and absolute defeat he had felt nothing but a warped sense of pride and respect.

She had also been key in reuniting him with his brother. He would always be indebted to her for that. Really, despite what people said, she was a good person deep down who genuinely wanted to help. She was sort of like some kind of ADHD Superwoman who could go Bizarro at the sign of any provocation. She kind of reminded him of himself back in the day.

Before actually going out to train her, Prussia had only really heard of America fleetingly. Denmark says they had sort-of met at some party at France's place, but in all honesty Prussia had probably been too drunk to remember.

In any case, after she had declared herself independent of England and the inevitable war was on it's way, Prussia had found himself stuck with the job of training her and her lazy (albeit perfect) ass.

She had looked a bit younger then, more like a teenager. Prussia had been shocked at her youth, but he supposed he had been in many wars when he had been even younger than she. When he saw her, he didn't see a lost cause. He saw a girl who just wanted to be equal and was willing to fight for her freedom. Of course he could respect that.

But, damn, she had been a mess. Every two seconds she had burst into tears, crying about how England was going to fight her and how she would have to hurt him, going on and on about how Canada wouldn't talk to her and how she hated England so much, but loved him so much, but hated him, too. It was this nasty, endless, emotional spiral and Prussia had been just the right guy to tell her to get her shit together.

"The bad news is that that crumpet-sucking dickhead definitely a better fighter," he had informed her. "The good news is that he's a total fucking idiot. Plus, if you're fighting him, no doubt France vill help out. He's on his vay now, or so I heard."

"Papa France is coming?" America had echoed. She seemed a little relieved. "Thank God."

"But he's only coming for backup," Prussia added, his red eyes narrowing. America swallowed and nodded nervously. "If you vant to earn the respect your looking for, you're going to have to be the one to give the finishing blow, or your 'ally' France vill be quick to take over himself because he'll think you're veak. Understand?"

"I get it." America's bottom lip had begun to tremble. "But… I don't know if I can do it. You know, hurt England."

"Let's not forget that he hurt you first." Prussia mentally rolled his eyes. Were all girls this pathetic? Surely Hungary was never this way, as far as he could tell. "You can't let on that you're upset if you vant vhat you're fighting for, othervise you're just vasting my time. As far as I can tell, if you can't toughen up, you've already lost."

America tugged on the ends of her hair. "Yeah. Okay, I feel ya. I promise I'll do my best."

During training, Prussia saw that she did, indeed, do her best. Prussia's training was more like borderline torture and the poor girl was shaped and molded into the perfect soldier. There was no way, even with his armies, that England could win against such a now-ruthless war machine. Prussia patted himself on the back to a job well done and had been prepared to leave as he saw no other reason to stick around, really. This was _her_ war, after all.

"Hey, Prussia? Wanna get a drink before you go?" America had asked.

"Eh… sure, vhy not?"

Once they got to the bar, America grumbled about her muscles being sore and Prussia told her she was just being a lazy ass. At some point they got intoxicated enough so that they began to speak a bit more candidly.

"The art of awesome?" America slurred, scratching the back of her head. "Howssat?"

"It's incredibly simple yet unbelievably complex," Prussia explained as he threw back another mug. "You do it like this—Step One: Be Awesome."

"Okay…"

"Yep." Prussia nodded in confirmation. "That's how you do it."

"So, like… tying a key to a kite in a thunderstorm, hypothetically. Would that be awesome? Benny said it was pretty cool. I've been meaning to try it out, but England said I would get myself killed."

" _Fuck_ yes that vould be awesome!" In celebration of such an awesome idea, Prussia ordered them another round of beer. "You know vhat else vould be awesome?! Building something that could fucking _fly_!"

"A flying machine?" America whistled. "For, like… people?"

"For totally like people, doubt it not!" Prussia's English at this point was a bit off, but America didn't seem too confused. "Give me another one, say the awesome thing and I vill tell you if it's awesome!"

America tapped her chin and then snapped her fingers. "I know! What if we went cow tipping?"

"Boo!" Prussia gave her a thumbs down. "Lame!"

"Um… buffalo tipping? That better?"

Prussia paused and thought that one over. " _Ja_ … _ja_ , _das ist wunderbar_! I don't care vhat they all say about you, you're almost awesome, blondie!"

"Wait… what do they all say about me?"

* * *

At some point, Prussia had dragged America out of the tavern they'd been getting drunk in and had managed to somehow, in their drunken state, find them a herd of buffalo. After inexplicably staying out of sight for several moments (Prussia had explained to her that you can never trust "big government" because they were "always watching", even when someone wanted to do something as simple as buffalo tipping), Prussia quickly shoved America out into the open field.

"Do it!" Prussia cheered. "Feel the awesome! Embrace it! Take it out to dinner! Then BE IT!"

This last part was yelled lout enough for the buffalo to wake up. The herd was startled and ran off, save for the biggest buffalo that had managed to spy America.

It was quite the stand-off. Prussia would latter describe it was the "awesome stand-off of the century" when he told his brother after returning to Germany (he also lectured Germany about how _America_ had happily embraced his lessons on awesomeness and had become, by far, his most successful pupil).

America stared down the buffalo. The buffalo stared down America. Prussia sat in the bushes, biting at his nails in anticipation.

Then the buffalo had pawed at the ground, let out a grunt, and charged. America, instead of backing off like Prussia had assumed she'd do, had dug her heels into the dirt, extended her hands and then stopped the buffalo in its tracks before it hit her. It was like watching a high-speed train hit a thick brick wall. America let out a grunt and was scooted about a meter back, but she held her own. In the end, she picked the buffalo up like it was nothing and tossed it off, whooping victoriously.

Prussia had been awestruck by awesome. He had quick declared her the second-awesomest person on the planet after himself and the next day, he headed home where he bragged about his training skills and wished his new friend luck.

Of course, she had won. She had also gone around Europe afterwards to introduce herself as a new, independent country. Prussia didn't see her again after that until they were technically enemies.

"Give it up, kid," he'd said on a particularly bloody World War I battlefield. "I taught you everything you know. You can't vin against me!"

"Wanna bet?" And then America had absolutely stunned him with a move he'd never seen before in his life. She laughed—she had punched him, kicked him, sent him stumbling back and, somewhere in the process of it all, she had lassoed him as well. Prussia was tied up and utterly, embarrassingly defeated. "I've learned some more since back in the day, old man. I realized I was pretty nifty with my fists and turns out most things can be solved with a punch."

As if to prove her point, America had punched him in the face so hard that everything tasted like mud for the five months. Somewhere in his pain-filled haze, he couldn't help but think that his awesome lessons might have gone _too_ well. It hadn't just been on the battlefield that she'd beaten him—she'd also proven to be a terrifying little she-demon in the skies, a WWI flying ace, as it were. She'd given Prussia and Germany absolute hell among the clouds, and now she'd handed their asses to them and dropped them off at the Allies' doorstep before she peaced out and headed home.

World War II had been a different story. The First World War had seen her operating alone, more or less to tell England, France and the others to stick it where the sun don't shine because even though she hated "the bad guys", she _still_ wasn't willing to work with "those fucking old-ass tools" (that was a direct quote, if Prussia recalled correctly, and he always did). However, World War II was a different matter and she knew she had to suck it up and deal with them if only to beat the Axis' ass from Rome to Tokyo and back again.

And the entire time, even on opposing sides, Prussia couldn't help but think she was fucking awesome. Who would have guessed England could raise someone who could hold her own while standing next to such awesomeness as Prussia?

Sure, they'd been enemies for a while. But these days, they got along swimmingly even though she could be a raging bitch and was sometimes so insane that Prussia had to wonder if spending time with Russia might be safer than being around her on a regular basis.

Even so, seeing her all torn up about the past was not only fucking annoying, it was depressing. If there was one thing that was _not_ awesome, it was being all mopey about shit that you fucked up in the past. Hell, if Prussia spent all his spare time whining and sniffling about the shit he'd pulled, he'd probably kill himself. Forgetting the past wasn't good, but wallowing in it was a waste of time.

"I hope that fucking Viking dipshit slaps some sense into her," he muttered, waving at the bartender so he could pay and go home. "I miss that crazy bitch."


	19. Even A Hero Can Fall pt. 3

_April 1941_

"But I don't _want_ to go."

Denmark sighed, his breath blowing out as a puff of white air that disappeared quickly. He glanced down at Greenland who pouted beside him and tugged on a blonde braid nervously.

"You know things have been tough at my house," Denmark replied, once more going through the same song-and-dance with his reasoning and whatnot. "I can't keep you safe."

"And _she_ will?" Greenland sniffed. "She's going to be part of this war, too, you know. It's only a matter of time. Do you really think she'll have the time to take care of me? I want to stay and help!"

Before Denmark could reply the sound of loud plane engines over the skies of Nuuk gave away their guest's arrival. Smoothing down his dark coat, Denmark clapped Greenland on the back reassuringly, ignoring her continued glaring.

"Let's go, kiddo."

The plane landed easily and a familiar blonde jumped to the ground before the engines even cut. For the first time ever Denmark saw America clad in uniform. Her combat boots sounded loudly against the ground as she hurried over, waving ecstatically.

"Denmark! How are ya?!" Without any other preamble, she grabbed him for a hug. Considering his siblings were real big on "personal space", Denmark wasn't used to being hugged spontaneously and found himself blinking in surprise. Before he could respond likewise, America let go and turned to Greenland.

"So, you're gonna live at my place until the Axis' lives are fucked in the ass, huh?" America let out a whistle as Greenland blushed upon hearing such crass language. "Well, I've got about forty-eight people living at my place. If you want to try somewhere warmer I bet Florida or Texas can take you in. Virginia likes company, too. New York's place is nice, that's where I live. But if you want somewhere more like home, I've got Maine or Minnesota, you pick, they're both fucking cold."

"Uhm… someplace warm would be nice," Greenland commented. "I've lived on basically a glacier my whole life, so…"

"You don't have to pick now." America laughed. "Hell, you could hop from state to state if you want. I've got a shit-ton of junk food in the plane if you want some."

Greenland nodded and then turned to Denmark, nervous more than petulant now. After a lot of hugs and goodbyes, Greenland boarded the plane.

America, meanwhile, had watched quietly, respecting the moment for once. After Greenland vanished into the plane she turned to Denmark and whistled.

"How ya holdin' up, Mathias?"

Denmark sighed. "It's been hard. I've managed to stay out of Germany's grasp so far, but he's invaded my house. I've been leading rebel groups and sending refugees to Sve's place, but… you know how is. Thanks for watching Greenland."

"It's no problem. I can do more to help, you know."

"I need to be able to help myself," Denmark replied quickly.

"Hey, I get it." America laughed. "Prussia told me stuff about the symbolism in being able to hold your own and crap back when he was training me. I was just saying, if you need weapons or anything, I've got you covered. I've been helping out England and the others on that front."

Denmark raised his eyebrows. "Sounds exciting."

Then America did something that made Denmark freeze completely. Up until this point, when she'd shown up at his place to announce she was independent and when he'd formally recognized her as a country, he'd always seen her in this role as someone inexperienced, immature loudmouth who didn't know how the world worked. She was strong, but she was clueless.

America had rested her hand on Denmark's lower arm and delivered the most dazzling smile Denmark had ever been subjected to in his life. Not even his own smile could possibly compare, and that was saying something. He blinked and blushed so hard that his face felt like it was burning.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay?" America asked suddenly. "England says things are worse at your place than your letting on. Is it a full-out invasion or...?"

"I'll be fine," he assured her. He kept his tone as lighthearted as possible. "But first I have to fuck Germany up. He's a real piece of work, huh? I bet he's gay and just doesn't know it yet."

"Sexual frustration, huh? That's one idea." America laughed. "You sure you can handle it? You're getting pretty old."

"I can handle it." Denmark snorted. "I just hope you don't get dragged into this, too. After all, you'd have to fight your old teacher, huh?"

"Who, that fucker Prussia?" America snorted. "He's probably just part of this war for shits and giggles. I'd get him with my left hook. Or with _this_."

Suddenly, America had plucked Denmark's axe from his person while he hadn't noticed. She spun it artfully a few times before letting the hilt rest on her shoulder. Denmark gaped a bit and then gave an appreciative laugh.

"You think I'm just going to let you walk off with my axe?"

"No!" America suddenly produced a wooden baseball bat and handed it to him. "It's not a normal baseball bat, you know. I call it New York. Think of me whenever you smash someone in the face with it, 'kay?" Denmark blinked as America gave him a flirtatious wink and then began to walk to the plane. "Go kick some ass, you sexy Viking, you!"

Denmark smirked as he rested the bat on his shoulder. The plane took off shortly thereafter, and all he kept thinking the same thing, over and over.

_What a woman_.

* * *

Denmark could remember that meeting with perfect clarity. It was sort of difficult to forget the very moment you fell for someone.

* * *

When Denmark got to America's house he was immediately greeted by the sight of Japan sitting on her front step. He was staring at his hands resting in his lap thoughtfully and his brown eyes were a bit distant.

As soon as Japan sensed Denmark coming the dark-haired nation looked up and blinked, not a hint of surprise betraying his expression. He stood and nodded at Denmark respectfully.

" _Hej_ , man." Denmark shifted, feeling almost uncomfortable. "You, uh… you come to see Mia, then?"

"I wanted to," Japan replied. "But I haven't even been able to bring myself to knock on the door, unfortunately. I cannot decide whether or not Amelia-chan would like to see me. I do not wish to offend her."

" _Ja_ , I'm worried she's going to give me the boot, too." Denmark rifled around in his pockets and then produced a bronze key. "I'm also worried that when I say 'give me the boot', she'll literally kick me out of her house. Through a window. A closed window. On the second floor."

"That sounds about right." Japan managed a small smile and then sighed. "I don't hate her for what she did. I just want to tell her that. I mean, I definitely don't like it, but we've all done things we don't like."

"I hear ya." Denmark sighed. "I've fucked up before. I'm surprised Sve and Norge will even look at me sometimes."

"Sometimes I wonder how nii-san can stand to be in the same room as me," Japan said softly. It took Denmark a moment to realize that Japan was talking about China. "I don't think seeing me would be much of a comfort to Amelia-chan. I do hope you can make her feel better. She likes you a lot."

"She's got good taste," Denmark commented, laughing a bit under his breath. This was the longest he'd ever spoken to Japan for without someone else present. The two of them weren't exactly buds like America was with him, but he had a very calming presence. "But she likes you, too, you know. She thinks you're the tightest shit on the Eastern hemisphere."

"Hm." Japan smiled. "That is good to hear. I, too, admire her. Though she was a bit… overbearing the first time we officially met."

"Yeah, she's told me about that." Denmark laughed. "Black ships? Could she have _been_ more terrifying about it?" He sighed. "Our first meeting was better. Awkward, but better. Kids say the damndest things and all that, you know?"

Japan nodded. "I think I'll visit her tomorrow instead. For now I think I will go home."

"Later, dude!" Denmark called. As Japan walked off, Denmark slid the key into the lock and went inside.

The house—actually, it was more like some old colonial mansion—was dark. Despite the large size of the place, America had always managed to make her home cozy and warm, the kind of place you could just feel comfortable in. But at that moment it was dark and sort of empty feeling, like no one had been in there for a while.

After a moment, Denmark made his way upstairs to her room, figuring she might be camping out in there.

He was right. He found her wearing three layers of Snuggies eating Ben and Jerry's. She had one lamp lit, giving the room a depressing glow. She looked like she hadn't showered in a while, either. Empty soda cans and old pizza boxes littered the room.

America jumped once Denmark entered and blinked at him in surprise. She relaxed and sighed, setting her half-melted ice cream aside. "Oh. It's you."

" _Ja_ , it's me." Denmark closed the door behind him and flicked on the light. "Let's get some light in here, how about? How are you doing?"

"Meh."

Denmark quickly made his way over, shedding his coat as he did. He sat down next to her on the bed and put an arm around her waist. America rested her head on his shoulder and sighed.

"I deserve to be hit by a school bus," she mumbled.

"No more than I do," Denmark assured her.

She groaned but smiled a bit sadly. "Then I guess that means I'm fucked."

Denmark laughed lightly and then they both fell into unusual silence.

"Japan was outside, you know," Denmark finally said. America tensed a bit and hid her face in her Snuggies a bit. "He wanted to see you, but I guess he didn't want to make you feel bad."

"I wouldn't have felt bad," she mumbled. Denmark could tell immediately she was lying. If anything, Japan's presence probably would have sent her into hysterical tears.

He decided not to say as much, though. "Gil misses you. He didn't _say_ so, but you know him."

They once more fell into silence. America seemed to be thinking while Denmark tried to come up with anything to get her out of her funk.

"Know what I was thinking about today?" He chuckled. "When we met back when you were a colony."

"Oh?"

" _Ja_." Denmark smirked. "You walked up to me, bold as you please, and told me you intended to marry me."

America gaped. "I did _not_."

"Did too. You gave me a cookie, too, when you made your proclamation of love." Denmark placed a hand over his heart. "It's like we were _destined_ to be!"

America smacked him on the arm and shook her head. "Make up as many stories as you like, Mathias, if they help you sleep at night."

He quickly kissed her forehead and decided to change the subject. "You know you're not the only person who's fucked up before, right?"

"I know." America looked away. "But no one's ever done anything like what I've done."

"Okay… maybe not quite to that extent. But Germany _did_ do the whole Holocaust thing. That's pretty fucking bad. And I abused my power during the Kalmar Union. I don't know how Sve and Norge ever found it in them to forgive me."

"Finland probably made them."

"And England fucked everyone over, basically." Denmark sighed. "Netherlands wreaked havoc. Turkey used to be the Ottoman Empire; he put the fear of God in Europe for a reason. North Korea's favorite pastime is telling everyone she's gonna kill you. Spain conquered all your Southern neighbors and wiped out their culture. Russia, Jesus, where do we start with that fucked up piece of—"

"Talking about how everyone else has done shitty things still doesn't make me feel better," America commented dryly. "It just makes me think of the fact that I can be included in the list of horrible, horrible countries who have ruined lives."

"Sorry." Denmark sighed. "I guess what I'm saying is, despite what they've done, they're not _bad_. England has good literature despite being a tyrant. Netherlands has amazing hair. Turkey has belly dancers and North Korea can't be all bad since South Korea is her brother and that guy's fucking cool. Spain's favorite pastime these days is sitting around, having _siestas_ , which is possibly the greatest pastime anyone's ever had, ever. And Russia, he… well… hm."

As Denmark struggled to think up something good about Russia, America glanced at him curiously.

"What about me?"

"You? Where do I start?" Denmark grinned. "You're hot as hell, for one thing. They don't call you 'America the Beautiful' for nothing, that's for sure. You're the biggest badass on the planet. You make the best movies, despite what England says, and you're hilarious. You don't take shit from anyone and if someone back talks you, you bitch-slap them so hard that their ancestors feel it. You collapsed the Soviet Union _and_ the Berlin Wall. You would look fucking sexy as hell in Viking gear." He grinned at her. "And if you ever feel down in the dumps, you've got me right next to you, ready to split someone's head open with an axe if need be."

America smiled. "Thanks, Mathias. I actually feel a lot better now, for real. Stuff like that is nice to hear." She sighed. "Maybe little me wasn't too far off."

"Hm? How's that?"

She laughed and stood, shedding her Snuggies as she began to clean up. "Well, I like to listen to whatever Beyoncé says, as a rule of thumb. Let's just say that I like it and I might just put a ring on it someday."

Giving him a wink, she carried a few empty pizza boxes out of the room. Denmark began to help out, too, unable to wipe the big, goofy grin off his face as he did so.

* * *

"Alright you dildos!"

Denmark and Prussia looked up as America walked over to them before a world meeting in Berlin only days later. She quickly fished out three dog whistles and handed one to Denmark and one to Prussia.

"Ten minutes into the meeting, blow on these. _Herr Dummkopf_ has his dogs napping in the lobby. They're going to run in here, make a big fuss, and while everyone is flipping shit, the three of us can blow this joint and do anything the fuck else for the rest of the day!"

Prussia took the whistle and beamed. "It's good to have you back, bitch!"

"It's good to be back, pencil dick!"

Germany quickly called the meeting to order and America kissed Denmark's cheek before she winked at them and flounced off. Denmark smirked.

America was back, bitches.


	20. A Battle Not Quite Worthy Of Legend

Prussia had made a big mistake. A big, stupid, horrible mistake that involved a Superpower, a former Viking, an ex-pirate and a major drama queen.

As America would so eloquently put it, shit hit the fan, and it hit the fan _hard_.

Usually he was so good at keeping his dates lined up. This had yet to happen, but he knew it was bound to happen someday. And that someday was apparently today.

"What is zis?" France frowned, holding his silver tray of food a little bit more tightly as America's gaze zeroed in on it. "Why are zese two here?"

America put her hands on her hips and Denmark rolled his eyes. "We're here for the meeting, doofwad."

"Oh? You are part of the Bad Touch Trio, too?" Spain rubbed the back of his head and frowned. "Correct me if I am wrong, but a 'trio' consists of three people, _sí_?"

"We're not joining your perv club." Denmark sniffed and looked down his nose, perfectly imitating Norway with a surprisingly cold stare. "We're here for the Awesome Trio meeting. Which is today."

"I am afraid you are wrong, you uncouth barbarian," France snapped. "Our group has been around since before your dear beau was even born!"

"Wow," America deadpanned. "You're acting like a total—"

"What? A deviant? A miscreant? A scoundrel?!"

America sighed. "I was going to say you were acting like a total cock-juggling fucklet, but yeah, all those other things, too."

France gaped. "You uncultured swine! If you were twice as smart as you are now, you'd still be stupid!"

"That's some big talk coming from a country whose latest contribution to society is limited to that horny cartoon skunk!" America laughed. "What now, France? Are you gonna twirl your handlebar mustache and tie me down to a railroad track?!"

As France and America got in each other's faces, their voices growing louder and louder with each verbal barb, Spain and Denmark held back, glaring at each other quietly.

Meanwhile, Prussia stood in between the two groups, blinking in utter bafflement.

Truthfully, he didn't know which group was actually meant to be scheduled that day, but he did know that tensions had been running high for a while. Spain and France lived in a perpetual belief that America and Denmark were hogging Prussia's sweet free time to themselves. Of course, on the other end of that scale, America and Denmark thought Spain and France nagged Prussia too much and made their outings "a little less awesome".

It turned out that balancing out his time was more difficult than he imagined, and as a result, jealousy ran rampant between the two groups. And now it looked like a match had been struck and was being dangled over a stick of dynamite, so to speak.

"Hey, friends, let's not be all unawesome and freak out," Prussia said, for once the voice of reason. Everyone fell quiet and looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "Ah, I made a tiny mistake. But ve can all hang out together, right?"

Had Denmark's mouth been full of beer, he would have done a spit-take. But since it wasn't full of beer, he just spit. "We don't let unawesome dumbasses encroach on Awesome Trio territory."

"We should all listen to Mathias," America added. "He's the handsomest one, so he's the smartest."

"Awww!" Denmark immediately became distracted by her comment and grabbed her around the waist, nuzzling his face into her neck. "You're so sweet!"

America laughed and hugged him back. "That's just because I love you so much!"

"I love _you_ so much because you love _me_ so much!"

"I love _you_ so much because you love _me_ so much because I love _you_ so much!"

"I love _you_ so much because…"

The two of them continued, throwing in kisses ever so often while the Bad Touch Trio watched on, looking horrified.

"Even _I_ think zis is too much," France grumbled, shaking his head. "Why would _mon ami_ Prussia ever want to spend so much time around such pathetic puppy love?"

That got Denmark's attention fast. "Hey! Shut up!"

"Such a quick wit," Spain spoke up, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

Denmark snorted. "Shut up, Spain. You'll never be half the man your mother is."

Spain's face turned red as a tomato, as he would put it, and he gasped. "Being around you is like having cancer to the soul, _puta_!"

" _Oui_ , I can feel my personality turning a dull shade of gray just being around zese two!"

America glared. "Hey, France, Rain man called. He wants his social skills back!"

Prussia ran his fingers through his hair. This was not good. Not good at all.

* * *

After managing to get everyone to calm down and take a seat—both parties on opposite sides of the table, naturally, with Prussia sitting at the head of the table—he knew he had to do some quick thinking to keep an all-out fight from breaking out.

As it was, nasty words were still being thrown out there. Both sides weren't exactly short on insults, either.

Prussia was rapidly trying to think of a way to unite these guys, at least temporarily. But nothing was coming to mind. What surprised him most was the way America and France seemed to have it out for each other. Then again America _had_ been raised by England, so perhaps it wasn't so surprising that they didn't exactly get along much.

"I think, since he clearly meant for this to be an Awesome Trio meeting, we should do what _I_ was planning on showing everyone." America reached into her cleavage without waiting for anyone to reply and whipped out a crystal ball. She then pulled out an elaborate gold stand and positioned it on the table. "Let's totally spy on people, like Beast from 'Beauty and the Beast'. Only we'll spy on people while they're picking their nose and stuff."

"Is that a crystal ball?" Spain asked, leaning in close. "Like magic?"

"What, are you going to drag me into the Spanish Inquisition?" America snapped. Spain rolled his eyes and looked prepared to say something when he noticed Denmark tapping his axe in warning.

"Hey… nice axe." Spain nodded at it and stared reverently. "What's it made out of?"

"Pure awesome, that's what," Denmark replied, eager to show his favorite toy off to someone different for once. "And just a dash of sexy."

Spain let out a snort of laughter and then seemed to remember that he was supposed to hate Denmark at that moment. He immediately scowled when France elbowed him in annoyance.

"Is anyone paying attention to the crystal ball? It took me a while to swipe it off Iggy, yanno." America said. She was quite suddenly wearing a bright blue scarf on her head and her fingers were covered in cheap mood rings.

"What is going on with zis whole… what am I looking at?" France asked, motioning toward her outfit.

America sniffed. "It's to add ambiance, Frenchie. Now watch! Be amazed! I mean, it's no bearded woman at a sketchy carnival, but it's still cool. Here, Denmark, who do you want to look at right now?"

"Hm…" Denmark tapped his chin. "How about Norway!"

America ran her fingers over the crystal ball and scrunched her nose up in concentration. Despite themselves, Spain and France leaned in as well, curious to see if it would work.

A faint image flickered in the middle of the globe showing what did, in fact, appear to be Norway standing in Iceland's kitchen. He was sitting in a chair, cleaning his nails and looking bored.

"This is boring," Spain announced. "How about my Romana?"

America shrugged and the image changed to Romana. She was at Germany's house, pouting while her sister and Germany made goo-goo eyes at each other. They all watched as Romana grabbed a buttered potato from her dinner plate and then threw it up at the ceiling. It stuck fast and just sort of hung there while Romana smirked.

"That's who has been throwing potatoes at the ceiling!" Prussia cried, as if lamenting over the loss of a potato. "Sometimes I find vurst up there, too!"

"My Romana has such a fiery passion," Spain said dreamily. "I remember the first time she told me something in Spanish, she said, ' _Incluso tu mano te_ _rechaza_ '."

America let out a loud laugh. Everyone else looked a little confused but decided not to push it since Spain turned red upon remembering America was very good at Spanish thanks to living next door to Mexico.

"Anyway," America said. "Now let's spy on—"

The doors flew open and England walked in with a case of beer. He paused upon seeing everyone gathered around a crystal ball and frowned.

"Now what's this? Did I show up on the wrong day?"

"Eh?" Denmark frowned. " _Was_ it 'Epic Brothers Trio' day? What's going on?"

"Epic Brothers Trio?" America frowned. "What now?"

"Because we're awesome at being underappreciated brothers," Denmark explained.

America snorted. " _'Underappreciated_ '? England? Do you _know_ what a shit brother he can be? All, 'America, I'm taxing your stamps!' 'America, I'm taxing your tea!' 'America, stop throwing all the tea in the harbor!' 'America, pants are a reality you have to face!' 'America, stop throwing buffalo!' 'America, stop—'"

"We get it," England snapped. He paused and cocked his head to the side. "Is that… did you take my crystal ball? You bleeding idiot!"

"I _borrowed_ it for _fun_ , Iggy. Do you know what _fun_ is? F-U-N. A noun. In Spanish it would be _divertida_ , right? Or is it… _divertido_ …?"

"Who cares what it is?" France cried out. "Do you not realize zat our friend Prussia is clearly so busy with his different clubs and trios zat he can't even remember to schedule them correctly? How callous! How cruel!"

"Who fucking cares?" England snapped, wrestling his crystal ball away from America, who was still loudly whining about England not being able to share his things. "I'll just reschedule. Although I'd like to meet soon, I feel an intense desire to get very drunk in the near future."

"What a wonderful influence you are! Best brother ever! Ten out of ten, would be colonized by again!" America yelled after him. "Do you want me to pass that message on to Mattie?"

"Get stuffed!" England shouted back before slamming the doors shut.

"Anyway," America said, going on as if nothing had happened. She yanked off her scarf and then tied it around Denmark's neck. He just kind of sat there and let her do whatever, as he had found it was a good rule of thumb to go by. "England took our fun away…"

"But France is right," Spain interrupted, addressing Prussia. The red-eyed nation blinked and tried to look innocent, which, all things considering, was a hopeless endeavor. "You've been getting us all mixed up lately. How many trios are you part of?"

Prussia tapped his chin and then yanked a wad of small white business cards from his pockets. He unbound them and then spread them out across the tabletop. The other four nations leaned over and gaped.

"Vell, here's my 'Awesome Trio' business card," Prussia said, pointing at one that was bright red. America picked it up and studied it a bit closely. "Oh, here's my 'Bad Touch Trio' one." That particular one was silver and the letters were all in cursive. _If you've had an off week, seeing us will turn you on_ was written in loopy script underneath their names. "Hm… here's my 'Epic Brothers Trio' card and… hey!"

America suddenly snatched that one, which was yellow and had pictures of mugs of ale on it, and scribbled out 'Epic', replacing it with 'Fail'. She then snidely threw the card back on the table and they all went back to reading the business cards.

"'The Tomato Trio'?" Spain read off a red one. "Me, my Lovi and Feli. How nice! I like it!"

"'The Otaku Trio'," America red. "Me, France and Japan. Because we read manga. _Fuck_ yeah we do! Up top, Nancy!"

"No," France replied. America deflated at having her high five rejected so rudely.

"I can't believe you have these," Denmark commented, picking up another one. "You even have ones you're not part of. Like 'The Magic Trio'. Why do you have business cards for those dorks?"

"I don't tell you how to live _your_ life," Prussia snapped.

"Yeah, you do, actually. All the time."

"'Zee Dumb Blonde Trio'," France read. "Me, England and America? Zere are so many blonde nations, why us?"

"Because you're all dumb," Prussia replied matter-of-factly.

"If you don't take that back I'm going to rip your face off and wear it as a mask," America practically snarled.

"How barbaric," France noted.

"You wouldn't have the balls to do it, you pantywaist."

"Perhaps I should ask Denmark if you actually have balls," France snapped back. "You never act like a lady. Perhaps instead of 'Amelia', 'Alfred' would be more suitable, no?"

"Ugh!" America smashed a fist on the table while Denmark glared at France. "Maybe I should staple your mouth shut!"

"Maybe _you_ should staple _your_ mouth shut and save us all the agony and embarrassment of listening to you stick your foot in your mouth every waking moment of your life!" France yelled.

The fighting began once more and Prussia groaned. He made a mental note to _never_ get these four in a room together ever again and managed to sneak out.

" _Mein Gott_ ," Prussia mumbled, rubbing the back of his head as he left the building. "Vhat a bunch of losers. I can't believe I hang out vith them all the time. I need cooler friends. Maybe hotter friends. Vith big knockers."

"Talking to yourself again?"

Prussia jumped and wondered who could sneak up on him like that. He whirled around and came face-to-face with Hungary. As usual, she held her frying pan in one hand and was fiddling with the flower in her hair.

"Oh, _hallo_ , Lizzie." Prussia tried to hide his nervousness and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Vhat are you doing here?"

"I was looking for America," Hungary replied, giving Prussia a friendly smile. "We're going shopping for some scuba gear. Then she wants to stop off at some military fort and take some underwater weaponry or some such thing. She says she's going to be 'hunting Nessie in earnest' next week. I'm actually pretty excited for it, especially since she asked me to join her. What fun!"

" _Ja_ ," Prussia replied. "Sounds like it."

"You seem a bit upset," Hungary noted. Prussia couldn't help but think that she was very good at reading him. "Hm… you should come with! Maybe Denmark can come, too! We'll make it a group outing!"

Prussia blinked. "That… that vould be fun, _ja_."

"Alright! It's a date!" Hungary rested a hand on his arm briefly and smiled again before making her way into the building, leaving a very happy Prussia behind her.

"Perhaps Hungary can be my new friend," Prussia noted to himself as he continued his way home. "Although ve've been friends for so long… so she vould be my new old friend? Hm… Vell, at least she qualifies as a hot friend vith big knockers! Kesesesese~!"


	21. The Unspoken Rule

There was no doubt in Prussia's mind that he was the coolest, most awesome person on the face of the planet. He was suave, totally fucking smart, had an awesome sense of fashion and he was sexy as sin. The ladies couldn't keep off of him, although the one time he had said as much to France and Spain, the both of them had nearly wet themselves they had laughed so hard.

But they were fucking morons, anyway. Seriously, Spain didn't even buy his own clothes, he let Romana shop for him like he was some fucking child or some shit. That's how fucking lame he was. And France? Did Prussia even need to list out reasons why he was way more awesome? The man wore _hair rollers_ to bed, at least, according to Poland who had told Prussia that one time, France had asked to borrow his.

So, there you go. Prussia was so fucking awesome that some people just couldn't handle it. It probably made them feel inferior or some shit like that.

But, despite his awesomeness, Prussia had found throughout the years that he had a bad habit of being socially awkward. He was the type of guy who would go in for a hug when the other person had just wanted a handshake. He was also the type of guy who would realize he was going in the wrong direction and try to casually turn around like nothing was wrong, but just ended up looking super strange about it.

Oh, yes, Prussia had had his fair share of awkward moments in the past, and one of those moments had been when he and Denmark had become friends.

Before that moment, they hated each other. Fighting a war with another nation tended to cause some long-standing grudges—take America and England, for example. But Prussia hadn't just fought one war with Denmark. He had fought two.

That spiky-haired Viking had kicked his ass halfway across Europe during their first conflict, which had, naturally, been over some land. A few years later, Prussia had recollected himself and had finally managed to win. Ever since then, Denmark and Prussia simply did not get along. Of course, both World Wars had only served to worsen the problem.

Logically, they should have been the best of buds. After all, Prussia was the most awesome person Prussia knew, and Denmark felt the same way about himself. They both kicked ass (though Prussia kicked _more_ ass) and they were both total fucking studs (although Prussia was _more_ of a stud no matter what America said). By all means, their awesomeness should have coalesced into one giant explosion of awesome. No one would be able to handle them. Women would faint. Men would turn gay. Bras would fly off of the chests of women whenever Denmark or Prussia would simple sneeze a little too loudly. The world would be tilted off its axis to accommodate their pure auras of awesome.

Yeah. That would have probably been a pretty accurate description of what would happen.

But that was not to be. Prussia didn't like Denmark and Denmark didn't like Prussia. It was as simple as that.

Prussia could remember the day they became friends very clearly. It had been during a world meeting in London. America had annoyed England after she had suddenly whipped her shoes off in the middle of some speech Spain was making. She had then thrown her "smelly elephant feet"—England's words—on her former caretaker's lap and had requested (more like demanded) a foot rub.

Apparently, England had a _thing_ about feet. He had shrieked like a sissy and absolutely _flew_ out of his seat. Instead of helping, America had burst out laughing along with France. England had absolutely thrown a fit, screaming at America for shoving her feet on his lap, then at France for encouraging her bad behavior, and then at Canada for not doing anything to help him and then at America again because she had put her Wonder Woman socks on her hands and was rubbing his cheeks with them.

Overall, Prussia thought the whole scene was hilarious. He had offered America a high-five as the meeting had been put on hold. She had high-fived him back enthusiastically before chasing England out of the building with her sock-hands.

Meetings were so fucking long, and Prussia needed to take one hell of a piss. Hurrying into the bathrooms, he was relieved to see the men's stall was empty. Originally, everyone had been okay with just having a shared bathroom between both men _and_ women but America had thrown such a hissy fit about it that they had finally agreed to separate the men and women bathrooms.

Thankfully, the bathroom was empty. Prussia _hated_ peeing in front of other people if only because he didn't like the awkward silence that was always punctuated by the tinkling sounds of taking a piss. He tended to get a bit stage fright if he felt like too many people were listening in.

Prussia undid the zipper on his dress pants and let out a sigh of contentment as he did his business. He didn't even notice that someone else had walked in until they were standing about one urinal away, unzipping their own pants.

There was an unspoken rule in the bathroom that you did not look or speak to one another while you were doing your business. Pissing was equal to private time. But Prussia didn't stop himself in time before his head turned in surprise and he was looking right at Denmark.

Denmark, however, was obeying the rule very closely. He didn't so much as spare Prussia a quick peek from the corner of his eyes as he situated himself. But then, sensing someone staring at him, he finally glanced over and frowned, his eyebrows furrowing unhappily at Prussia's scrutiny.

Prussia could feel his face go red. He quickly looked away, back at the lovely scenic sight of the urinal he was using and held back a groan, realizing he had stopped pissing halfway through. Fucking stage fright. And he knew perfectly well that if he didn't piss now, he wouldn't get another chance until _after_ the meeting. No doubt America wouldn't pull anything as interruption-inducing as her foot attack on England, so Prussia had to embrace breaks like these to relieve himself or be doomed to squirm uncomfortably in those damnably uncomfortable chairs for hours and hours and hours.

He was going to pee, dammit, or die trying.

The Danish nation, for his part, seemed entirely unbothered by Prussia's presence. He looked a little bit thoughtful, as if he were daydreaming, almost.

Prussia stared at him again, wondering how he could possibly take care of business while someone else was in the bathroom with him. Of course, naturally, Denmark felt Prussia staring at him again and glanced at him again from the corner of his eye, his head inclining a bit as he frowned, looking annoyed and creeped out.

The albino had not meant to come off as totally creepy, but he had, and despite looking away quickly, the damage had been done. Denmark clearly thought Prussia was some kind of pervert getting his rocks off by watching the Viking relieve himself. Denmark quickly focused on getting the job done, obviously in a hurry to vacate the bathroom and leave the pervert behind.

Prussia blinked as he heard Denmark hurrying up and felt somewhat relieved, realizing he would be able to piss in peace once Denmark was gone. But then he realized that, no doubt, the loudmouth would waltz back into the meeting and tell everyone that Prussia was eyeballing his wurst stick of love in the bathroom. And what if word of that got to Hungary? Then she would think he was gay or some shit and probably try to set him up on another blind date with Russia _again_.

Panicked, he quickly turned his head, prepared to explain himself, damn the fact that they were both attempting to pee. Denmark, seeing Prussia once more look at him, snapped. Zipping up his pants, he leveled a glare at Prussia.

"What. The _fuck_. Are you looking at, you fucking pervert?" Denmark crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. "I'm not fucking interested."

Prussia felt all the blood drain from his face. Hurriedly, he shook his head. "No, no, it's not like that, really! I vas just—"

"Watching me piss like some creep!" Denmark shoved a finger in Prussia's face. "I _saw_ you! Like I said, I'm not interested! I'm not gay!"

"Neither am I!" Prussia protested.

Denmark then looked confused. "So… what, were you trying to compare sizes or…?"

"No!" Prussia puffed out his chest. "You could never measure up to mein five meters, kesesesese~!"

"Five meters? That's impossible."

"You doubt my awesome schlong?!" Prussia glared.

"I can _see_ it," Denmark pointed out. "You never put your dick back in your pants, you fucking pervert."

Prussia let out a noise of surprise and hurriedly attempted to zip himself back into his pants while maintaining a glare at Denmark. "So you vere staring at my five meters? And you're calling _me_ a pervert?"

"It's not like I could help it! It was just hanging out." Denmark made a face. "Do you _know_ what I'm going to have to do to get that image out of my mind? I'll probably have to stare at some third-degree burns just to feel less grossed-out."

"You're just jealous!"

"Of what?"

"Mein awesome five meters! Vhat do you think I vas talking about?!"

"How many times were you dropped on your head as a child?"

Eventually the fight degraded into the two of them simply beating the ever-living shit out of each other on the bathroom tiles. They only stopped some time later when America threw the door open and hurried in, paying them no mind.

"Move it, dorks! I've got to pee like a racehorse!" She kicked in one of the stalls and nearly threw herself inside. Meanwhile, Prussia and Denmark had ceased fighting to stare at the very girl who had loudly proclaimed that men and women sharing restrooms was "disgusting and scandalous".

When America was finally done, she sauntered out of the restroom and stared at them, looking pissed. "Why are you two asshats in the ladies' room?"

"You're in the men's bathroom," Prussia pointed out. He and Denmark had gotten off the ground and had stood apart. Everyone's dick was in their pants where they belonged and their clothes had been smoothed down.

"Yeah, gorgeous. Didn't you notice the urinals?" Denmark added, blatantly staring at her legs.

America's eyes widened and she let out a horrified gasp, her whole face turning red. She then let out a loud, embarrassed shriek as she tore out the bathroom faster than a bolt of lightning.

Prussia and Denmark looked after her for a few moments before they looked at each other and shrugged. Neither of them really felt like fighting anymore and Prussia had to admit that Denmark was a pretty badass fighter himself. He was pretty sure he'd end up with a few bruises.

"So, vant to come over to my place and drink beer and talk shit about people or something?" Prussia suggested as they left the bathroom themselves. They could still hear America shrieking all the way to the meeting room.

"Sounds like a plan." Denmark grinned. "See ya, Prussia."

"See ya, Dane."

With that, they entered the meeting room together. Sure, they had met in the bathroom as fiends, but nothing brought two men together quite like an awkward moment in a bathroom followed by seeing a pretty girl embarrass herself by hurrying into the wrong bathroom.

Prussia and Denmark smirked at each other when they saw America clinging to Canada, sobbing about impropriety or some shit. Canada sighed, too used to France's perverted antics to be fazed by much anymore.

Prussia sat back in his seat, satisfied with himself until he realized he had never finished going to the bathroom. Now he would have to hold it until the meeting was over.

Well, fuck.


	22. Awesome Trio: The Sequel

America was so bored. It wasn't fair. Being bored should have been illegalized in her country a long time ago. But there she was, sitting on the floor of her colonial mansion, dully shooting Styrofoam Nerf bullets at a poster of Justin Bieber. In the background, Eminem could be heard blaring from the speakers of her radio, as she imagined that only he understood her pure inner struggle at the moment.

For the first time in a bajillion years (and by bajillion she, of course, meant a week), she had a day off. And of course everyone was busy as junk. Stupid England was with stupid Canada doing business with stupid Japan, and stupid Australia was M.I.A. after he had gotten lost in the Badlands searching for the legendary jackalope, despite America's warning that they were very dangerous. No doubt he had had his face torn off, Hannibal Lector style.

Of course, America's first choice in company had been Denmark, but he had apologized and said he had a Nordic Council meeting the entire _week_ and couldn't see her at that exact moment. She had then called Prussia to see if he wanted to crash the Nordic conference to set Denmark free, but Prussia had whined that his brother was finally forcing him to do some work so Germany could have a day off.

America let out a long, dramatic whine once all the Nerf bullets ran out. She stared angrily at the Justin Bieber poster before she stood up and decided that if the Awesome Trio wasn't available then she'd just have to make a substitute Awesome Trio.

Awesome Trio 2.0 was a go.

* * *

It had been a perfectly normal day. Netherlands had been cleaning tomatoes that his sister had brought him the day before and was trying to figure out just what to make with them when he had heard a knock at his front door. Curious, Netherlands had gone to his front door and peeked outside. It was pretty early and he had to wonder just who would swing by for an unexpected visit.

No one had been standing on his doorstep. He shuddered, thoroughly creeped out. Just as he turned around and was prepared to close the door, he found himself scooped up off the ground like he was nothing more than a small child and was carted off out the door, slung over someone's shoulders.

"What the hell?!" Netherlands twisted in the iron grip that he had unceremoniously found himself in and peered at his captor, heart shuddering to a half-annoyed, half-terrified stop when he saw exactly who it was.

"'Sup, you tulip fiend?" America let out a bout of annoying laughter as she dragged him to her ridiculous muscle car. "Ready to have the time of your life?!"

Netherlands was fairly certain that by 'the time of your life', she meant 'the last thing you will ever do in your life'. He and Denmark tended to chill out together and when that idiot wasn't talking about kicking ass, food or how in love he was, he was telling some horror story about the "fun thing" America had suggested the weird trio of friends do. And by "fun thing", it was usually something borderline suicidal. In fact, as he recalled, Denmark had once said America had taken him and Prussia bungee jumping, but then to make it more "extreme" (as if bungee jumping weren't already extreme in and of itself), she had suggested they not use to the bungee cord. Essentially, she had suggested that they jump off the side of a cliff for fun. And, according to Denmark (and his two-month stint in the hospital because he had basically shattered his entire skeletal structure) they had all done it. And it had been "awesome".

Needless to say, based on such information, Netherlands was not eager to be forcibly dragged out of his house by the freedom-loving she-demon.

"What's going on here?" Netherlands had demanded, but America had just laughed like a maniac before she threw him in the car, climbed into the driver's seat, then put the pedal to the metal and drove off, heading straight for Berlin.

* * *

Germany rarely got days off. And by 'rarely', he meant that he _never_ got days off. Such was the life of a soldier, after all. He didn't mind being busy, but having some free time all to himself that didn't include keeping a near-constant eye on his possibly-brainless older brother and flying off to Italy to help Feli tie her shoelaces was always nice.

His plans of the day were to leisurely work on his cars and maybe make some wurst. It would be a nice, quiet day. Ja, that would be perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Of course, he hadn't been anticipating someone in a panda suit sneaking up on him. Thinking it was China, he simply grunted and prepared to tell him that no, Germany had a day off and any and all business matters could be taken to Prussia for the next 24 hours.

"Vhat are you doing here?" Germany asked, a little annoyed as the person in the panda suit crept closer. "I can _see_ you, if you're trying to be sneaky. It's not vorking. In any case, I'm not available right now, so if—"

"Aw, what?" The panda's mask was torn off to reveal that his mysterious bear-assailant was none other than America. "Russia says this works like a charm! Fucking commie liar!"

Germany made a face. "Mein bruder isn't here right now, if that's who you're looking for."

America smirked. "Oh, I know. I'm not here for _him_. I'm here for _you_."

"I don't think so." Germany took a step back, suddenly (rightfully) fearful. "This is my day off, so you should just—"

America apparently sensed that Germany was going to put up a fight, which was why he found himself lassoed, hog-tied and thrown into the backseat of her car. Germany was furthermore surprised to see a petulant Netherlands sitting in the passenger seat as America slipped in and floored it.

* * *

"Kiss it."

"What?" Netherlands looked at America incredulously. "Kiss… kiss _Mona Lisa_?"

"No, kiss Germany," America replied sarcastically. Both men looked horrified by the idea. " _Yes_ , kiss _Mona Lisa_. Look at her. She's checking you out."

Netherlands shook his head while Germany rolled his eyes. Both men had been shocked when she'd brought them to Paris and were furthermore surprised when she had dragged them into _The Louvre_. Germany had gotten his hopes up that perhaps America intended for them to engage in something slightly mentally stimulating and Netherlands was just happy that she hadn't suggested they use a nuclear power plant as a playground or something.

But what was she talking about, kissing _Mona Lisa_?

"You want me to kiss a timeless painting?" Netherlands clarified as America tapped her foot, growing impatient.

"Yes. Do it."

Netherlands bristled. "Why should I?"

"Incentive, huh?" America tapped her chin, thinking. "How about… I know! I'll wear that bunny outfit you like so much to the next World Meeting! I'll wear it every single day that week. Cross my heart, pinkie promise, no take-backs, all that jazz."

It was like some kind of switch had been flipped in Netherlands' brain. One moment, he was a rational man who was not going to smash his lips on a priceless canvas and the next, he was more than willing to lip-lock _Mona Lisa_ if it meant he would get to see America wear that damn bunny outfit again.

Germany, meanwhile, was starting to wonder if he could manage to sneak off somehow. These two were clearly morons who were, overall, beneath him. Sure, _officially_ he and America got along, but more or less that was because she was such good friends with Prussia. He had had a grand total of _one_ moment where he had enjoyed her company, and that had been when they'd bumped into each other at a firing range in New York City during a meeting between their bosses. As it turned out, she knew her way around firearms. Not only that, she had shown respect for the weapon, and anyone who was capable of such a thing was not a _complete_ idiot in Germany's opinion.

Mostly, anyway. After all, she was still the same girl that had tried to convince everyone at a world meeting that you could, in fact, play a bagel on a record player "if you believe hard enough".

As Germany was discreetly searching for an escape route, he spied France himself hurriedly coming toward the three of them, apparently very, _very_ uncomfortable with America being in a building filled with priceless, historical works of art. Germany stayed quiet as Netherlands hovered near the painting, giving serious thought to America's ridiculous and seemingly random demand. A small inkling in the back of Germany's mind was leading him to believe that America had come to _The Louvre_ with the intention of getting one of them to kiss _Mona Lisa_.

"If you use tongue I'll let you touch the rabbit tail," America added.

Netherlands probably would have started making out with the painting then and there if France hadn't shrieked at the top of his lungs once he realized what was happening.

"While I do strongly condone public displays of affection, I must say zat zis is not even close to being remotely acceptable!" France probably would have grabbed Netherlands and dragged him off. In fact, he seemed intent on doing so, but once Netherlands realized what France was planning he turned to issue him a very serious, very pissed off glare that clearly said _touch me and face my wrath, fucker_. Even these days, when he mostly spent his time taking care of tulips and smoking weed, people remembered the Netherlands from the past and they did _not_ want to stir up any ire with the likes of him. Throw in the fact that America was sending a warning look and even the remote possibility that Germany could possibly punch France just for the hell of it, well…

Still. Art was life. France would surrender faster than someone could blink on a battlefield, but when it came to art, he would fight to the death!

"Step away from zee painting, you brute!" France glared. "Do it or I shall… I shall kiss _you_."

That gave Netherlands some serious pause. But then he happened to catch a glimpse of America.

America had reached into her portable wormhole and yanked out a pair of white fluffy bunny ears. Wordlessly, she put them on her head and quirked an eyebrow.

It happened fast. Netherlands was standing there, looking terrified at the prospect of France kissing him (which was bound to happen soon, anyway, because, come on, it's _France_ ) and the next thing anyone knew, he was getting himself very acquainted with _Mona Lisa_.

It wasn't his finest hour. But it's important to note that it probably wasn't his worst moment in life, either.

* * *

The next thing anyone knew, America had bought them all some ice cream and they were walking through the hot streets of Madrid. Netherlands had _not_ wanted to take one step into Spain, all things considered, and Germany had little interest in spending time there as well because more likely than not, Romana was nearby. He liked to avoid her as much as possible.

Netherlands and Germany said nothing when America quite suddenly purchased a bull (they weren't even sure if it was entirely legal for her to do so, but she looked so happy about it that neither of them voiced their concerns). Then America had brought them to Spain's house and had promptly instructed Germany to release the bull into the house.

"Aw, what the fuck?!" Netherlands whined. "Why does _he_ get the fun thing? I'd love to release a bull in that fucker's house!"

"Exactly why it wouldn't have been a challenge," America pointed out. "So let's see Germany grow a pair and provoke Romana."

Netherlands had to admit that he could kind of see why Denmark enjoyed spending time with her. Besides the obvious fact that America was a serious piece of eye candy, especially in bunny ears, she was crazy enough to be fun. But he'd be fucked if she convinced him to do something _really_ crazy, like the time Denmark had told him that America had hijacked her alien friend's time machine and had brought her, Prussia and Denmark _way_ back in time to hunt a Tyrannosaurus Rex because she wanted a "challenge". The trip had ended when the great monstrous beast proved to be "child's play" and America had darkly commented that "man was the most dangerous game" once they'd gotten back home. Even Denmark had kept his distance for a while after that until some other bright, shiny thing distracted her from her homicidal kick.

No. He was _not_ dinosaur hunting with her. She'd bought him _Jurassic Park_ for his birthday one year and he knew better than to mess around with that kind of whacked-out shit.

In any case, Germany looked flabbergasted at being asked to do something so destructive. Sure, back in the day, he'd been a power-hungry warlord, but these days his idea of getting out of control was when he let his girlfriend make a mess in the kitchen.

But Germany had to admit, there was something very appealing about letting a bull run rampant in the house Spain often shared with Romana. One could only be called a potato bastard so many times before…

Without even thinking, his grip on the bull had loosened and the thing shot forward, racing into the house. After some loud clattering and smashing noises (which was nearly drowned out by America and Netherlands' loud giggling), a shout and a string of Spanish curse words came from inside, followed closely by the familiar shrill sound of Romana screaming her head off.

Just when he started to realize what a massive mistake he had made, Romana stormed out of the house, still shrieking. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on the three of them standing there. Naturally, she decided to ignore America and Netherlands and instead focused all her anger on Germany.

"You dumb potato! Thought it would be funny letting a bull loose in the house, huh?" Romana disappeared and reappeared quickly with a big basket of red tomatoes. Spain was hurrying behind her, looking downright panicked and seriously scuffed up.

"Lovi, _mi amor_ , think before you throw those! We spent all morning looking for the perfect tomatoes!"

Romana paused, poised to throw the tomato, but once Spain had mentioned all the hard work they'd gone through to get those good tomatoes, she frowned and put it back in the basket. She then disappeared into the house, leaving Spain to stand there and glare at them.

"Ve should go," Germany advised, turning to address the other two. "Last time she got angry vith me she threatened to show Italy my… private collection of… stuff."

America snorted and exchanged a look with Netherlands. The three of them then snuck off hurriedly just in case Romana decided to cuss the holy hell out of them.

* * *

"You mean to tell me you've had this on you the whole time?!" America smacked Netherlands upside the head. "Dude! What the fuck?!"

"I don't share."

"Yes you do. Mathias says you share with him all the time!" America made a pouty face. "Pleaaaase?"

"Fucking Denmark…" Netherlands sighed dramatically. "Whatever."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes."

"WOO!" America pumped a fist in the air and motioned for Germany to give her a fist bump. He just glared at her, uninterested in the next activity they were about to partake in.

The three of them were hanging out in Bruges, Belgium. America wanted to go there because it was "modern kickass medieval" and because they had awesome waffles.

The three of them were chilling in America's car when America had suddenly asked Netherlands if he had some "green stuff". Germany had been confused for about half a second before realizing what she wanted to do now.

God, he couldn't imagine her stoned. He didn't even want to think what her appetite would be like. He groaned as the other two lit up and let the drug do its job. Germany insisted on rolling down the windows because he most certainly did not want to be hot boxed.

Within the next half hour, both Netherlands and America were completely stoned. Netherlands was a pretty laid-back kind of stoned, where he just sort of let his mind wander and occasionally would suddenly say something surprisingly insightful.

America, meanwhile, was still very perky, and while Netherlands spoke minimally, America became much chattier.

"I can feel the yellow, guys!" America was saying, looking at both men like this had some kind of significance. Germany assumed that 'the yellow' was the sun, considering she kept sticking her head out the window to sing 'Here Comes the Sun'. "Hey, do you know what I feel really bad for?"

Germany didn't say anything because he really didn't want to know.

Netherlands, however, appeared interested. "Tell us."

"The ground," she replied in all seriousness. "I feel bad for the ground. I mean, we walk all over it like, all the time. I park my car on it. My pets take shits on the ground. Why do we do that to the ground? What did the ground ever do to _us_? I should talk to my boss about it. Ground Rights movement."

"You're so right," Netherlands said, nodding as if what she was saying had some kind of merit.

Germany would never, ever understand the appeal of marijuana.

"Hey, have you ever thought of how weird it is that people like sitting in hot tubs?" America continued. "Like, sitting around in hot water, how is that fun? That's how we cook our food. It's like, what are we, pasta?"

Germany's mouth quirked into a small smile, suddenly reminded of Italy. She would have definitely liked having _that_ discussion with America.

Just as he was thinking that maybe spending some time with these two might be kind of fun and give him a few good, humorous stories, America turned around and leveled him with a look.

Her tone was deadly serious as she asked, "Germany, if I tasted like a banana, would you eat me?"

His tone was also deadly serious. "Most certainly not."

* * *

"Mia?"

Denmark paused when he got no reply save for some thumping coming from her upstairs bathroom. He pulled her house key out of the lock and slid it into his pockets as he cocked his head to the side, listening.

He had managed to get everyone to hurry up with the fucking conference so it ended two days early and he was seriously looking forward to spending his free time with her. He knew she was home because he could see her car in the driveway.

Prussia, too, was trailing after him. He had whined and bitched about how Germany had quite suddenly fallen off the grid several days earlier and had left him with a shitload of work to do. In an effort to run away from his responsibilities, Prussia had jumped at the chance to go to America's place with Denmark.

Denmark felt pretty bad, too. America had been real excited about having a day off and he had had to ruin it for her by telling her he was at a stupid conference. But, hopefully, she would be available to have some fun now.

"Vhere is she?" Prussia asked impatiently, ignoring his cell phone. It had been buzzing consistently on their way over and it was clear the albino was getting agitated. "I need her to say something insane to distract me."

Denmark and Prussia made their way upstairs and Denmark flung the door open. The two men blinked in confusion at the scene that greeted them.

America, Germany and Netherlands were sitting in America's bathtub. All three of them wore swimsuits and snorkeling gear. Because all three of them couldn't fit correctly in the bath tub, it seemed that they had all squished together like sardines. Germany looked royally pissed off while Netherlands seemed a bit more content, if only because he was smushed up next to America, who was wearing a bikini.

"This is way less fun than I thought it would be," America said, shifting. She then saw Denmark and Prussia standing in the bathroom door and let out an excited shriek. She nearly launched herself out of the tub and threw herself at Denmark.

" _Thank God_." Germany stepped out, stretching and wincing at the sound of his cracking knees. His joints were all stiff and his muscles were sore, but he was a free man. "I'm out."

"Good. Take this fucking piece of shit back," Prussia demanded, throwing the cell phone at his brother. Germany easily caught it mid-air and stomped off, shedding his snorkeling gear in his wake.

"Remember our deal," Netherlands reminded America as he followed after Germany.

America nodded and Denmark looked between them, curious. "Eh… what deal is that, babe?"

"Not important!" America announced. "What _is_ important is that the gang is back together again!"

"Why were they here, anyway?"

"Eh, Netherlands has spiky hair like yours and Germany is… you know. German." America shrugged. "I thought I could make an Awesome Trio 2.0 or something."

" _Pfft_." Prussia rolled his eyes as if she were a child. "How did that verk out for you?"

"They were such babies. They wouldn't go into the sewers with me to look for super-gator!" America pouted at having her fun ruined. "But they _did_ do some digging in Mexico around these old Mayan ruins. I said we were doing it because we were looking for treasure, but really, we were looking for evidence of aliens." America laughed. "They were pretty fun! Maybe I'll drag them out to hang with me again sometime!"

At that moment, Germany and Netherlands, both finally on their way home, felt a shiver of fear run down their spines. While Netherlands decided to head to his sister's place for a while to calm down, Germany reminded himself to finalize his will… just in case.


	23. Rated R For A Reason

The first thing everyone noticed was that it was unusually quiet for a World Meeting. It was somewhat confusing and alarming because no one was sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Prussia was inclined to believe it was a bad thing.

"Vhat is going on?" he demanded, slamming a fist on the table before the meeting officially started. Germany casted him an annoyed glare but decided to say nothing unless his brother's tirade cut into the meeting time. "Did someone die or something?"

England frowned. "You know, I've noticed that it's awful quiet, too. But everyone is here…"

They did another head count and found that, yes, everyone was there. They even counted Canada. Germany insisted that everyone yell _here_ when he called their name just to make sure because once, Prussia, Denmark and America had dressed up mannequins in their outfits and sat them down so they could skip the meeting.

"United Kingdom?"

"Present."

"France?"

" _Oui_ , my gorgeousness is right here!"

"Spain?"

" _Sí,_ _estoy aquí_!"

"Ugh! Don't speak so loudly in my ear, bastard!"

"Spain _and_ Romana are here… Italy is, too…"

The count went on for a while without any problems. That is, until Germany called out America's name.

"United States?"

Silence.

Germany frowned, his eyes sweeping the meeting room. "United States of America?"

Everyone turned to look right at America. She turned bright red and pressed her lips together, letting out a tiny, pathetic whine.

"Answer when someone asks you a question!" England chastised, shaking his head. "Your manners are appalling, Amelia. Absolutely abhorrent."

America pouted but continued to say nothing. When she talked, everyone complained. When she didn't talk, everyone complained. Where did it end with these people?!

"Mia? You alright?" Denmark peered at her with some concern as her face turned redder and redder.

"Guess ve figured out vhy it's so quiet," Prussia commented, smirking a bit. "But vhy aren't you talking? Did you lose a bet or something? Did someone jinx you?"

America let out a tiny whining noise and seemed to shrink a bit in her chair, still not answering.

"Wait. Are you not saying anything because you don't want to, or…" Russia chuckled darkly. "Are you not _able_ to speak?"

America's eyes widened. She opened her mouth, apparently to refute this, but all that came out was a squeak.

"Last night we went to that Monster Truck rally and Mia got in that screaming match with that dude who was all anal about 'safety' or something." Denmark scratched his head. "I mean, yeah, we took one of the trucks for a joyride, but who would have thought he'd freak out about it?"

"Glad I didn't get _that_ invitation." England gave America a pointed glare. She responded with a dramatic eye roll. "Did you even ask permission to steal that gigantic public nuisance on wheels?"

America shrugged, Denmark looked away sheepishly and Prussia whistled while checking his nails.

"Hey, Mia, you alright?" Denmark reached over to rub her back as soothingly as he could. "Did you lose your voice?"

America pouted and then nodded, leaning her head against his shoulder. She had a small smile on her face when he kissed her forehead.

"Hej, it happens to everyone." Denmark smiled. "Some tea with honey, a bit of rest, you'll be good as new before the week's over. But until then…" He snickered. "It's open season."

America's eyes widened and she gaped at him like she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Sorry, hot stuff, but it's true," Prussia chimed in, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "As your awesome friends, it's our duty to mercilessly kick you vhile you are down. I vould expect nothing less of you if our positions vere svitched."

"Oh, _sí_ , what an opportunity." Spain laughed and even Romana smirked a bit. "We can say whatever we want and America can't even talk back!"

"Kesesese~, today vill be a _fun_ meeting!"

"There vill be no nonsense!" Germany snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. Everyone fell silent, disappointment palpable in the air. Then, suddenly, his lips actually twitched into a small smile. "Unless that nonsense is at America's expense."

America made some whiny noises and slammed her head against the tabletop. All those fuckers were going to get it once she got her voice back. If she took Denmark's advice, she would be able to put the fear of God in everyone by the end of the week.

"Hey, America, if you vant me to invade your vital regions, don't say anything!" Prussia cackled until Denmark shoved him away from her.

"Hey, America, if you want me to cook dinner for you for the rest of the week, don't say anything!" England laughed.

"Hey, America, if I am the greatest and you will be becoming one with me, don't say anything!" Russia added.

Ugh. It was going to be a long week.

* * *

The doors to the meeting room flew open and America stood there, triumphant. She had a glass of tea in one hand and some honey in the other. A nasty scowl was on her face as she looked around the meeting room.

"Fuck you _all_ ," she roared. Her voice was still a bit scratchy, but it was loud and very, _very_ angry. "Fuck you all right in the ass! Fuck _you_ , fuck _your countries_ and fuck your tiny pea-sized brains and your stupid fucking shitfaced comments!"

England, who was well-known for his crass language, suddenly felt a little bit terrified and embarrassed, knowing full well she had learned nearly all of her insults, barbs and cuss words because of him. "Now, Amelia, I hardly think that's—"

"Whatever you're about to say, Judas, you can crumple it up and shove it up your bony ass!" She glared at him furiously. "Special Relationship my fucking left foot! You'll be hearing from my boss!"

England's whole face was bright red and he snapped his mouth shut while several others snickered. No one was snickering once America went on a roll, though.

Oh, America had the right to be pretty pissed off. Normally no one spoke against America too harshly as they were afraid that the tiny thread of sanity that kept her from becoming Russia the Second would snap in a fit of rage. But it seemed that due to her inability to tell them all to shut up or remind them darkly that she had big, scary bombs at her house that were just itching to be put to good use, everyone simply began to see America as a bit of a whipping boy. Denmark had been there to tell people to knock it off, but he knew that America hated it when people played hero for her. Prussia hadn't been any help at all—if anything, he was the absolute worst of the bunch.

And now that America had her voice alive and kicking, it seemed that all of them were about to be served with a series of nasty reminders that she was _America_.

"I hope you all get hit by busses filled with pig shit for all the shitty _bullshit_ that you said this week!" She stomped her foot like a child and made sure to glare at everyone, one-by-one. "I would like to formally invite you all to go fuck yourselves on the nearest pointy object! You're all useless piles of cum-covered horse shit! Seriously, are your mouths shitholes? If you all fell down a flight of stairs, through a closed window on the fifth floor and fell into a pit of swords, I would fucking laugh my ass off and then I would Instagram that shit! You're all a bunch of twat-faced shits who deserve to be fisted! Without lube! I hope you all get a million paper cuts on your faces! Fuck you all to the moon and back!"

America then began to point at each and every single nation. "You're a twat. Twat. Twat. Dick. Asshole. _Fucking_ asshole. Assfuck. Shitface. Pencil dick. _Justin Bieber_." She made sure to linger on Canada with a particularly nasty look then before moving on. "Cocksucker. Bitch. Bitch. Twat. Twat, twat, twat… _double_ twat. Cool." She grinned at Australia before moving on. "Shithead. Cockface. Douche canoe. Sexy." She gave Denmark a wink. "Asshole, asshole, asshole, bitchface, asshole… cool." Sealand glowed when America gave him a thumbs-up. Finland let out a horrified shriek and covered up his ears. "That's all I have to say. Y'all some trifling whores up in this bitch. I'm out!"

With that, she turned around and flounced out. Denmark quickly grumbled some choice words of his own and hurried after her to make sure she didn't do something crazy.

By the time she had finished, both Italians sat under the table, waving white flags. Most nations were breathing heavily and cast each other terrified looks. Russia looked about ready to pass out while Belarus looked both terrified and a little bit aroused. England was sputtering and France was casting his British not-friend looks as if to say _if I had raised her she wouldn't have turned out this way_. The only person who seemed to have enjoyed himself was Prussia, who was laughing so hard that he looked like he was in pain.

"Oh… _mein… Gott_." He sat up and then promptly lost it again. "That was fucking _hilarious_! Best meeting EVER!"


	24. Yaoi Life Or Bust

When disaster struck, it was all Hungary's fault. Or at least, that's what America insisted. And because America insisted it was Hungary's fault, Denmark also insisted it was Hungary's fault. Prussia was the only one who claimed that no one was at fault, mostly because he harbored a massive crush on her and was very much so hoping to get to second base sometime in the near future. In reality, however, he was also at fault, sort of, something both America and Denmark were too eager to point out.

Really, it had started when Denmark had been casually chit-chatting Hungary before a World Meeting. America had announced that nature was calling before heading off to the bathroom and Prussia had excused himself to join France in making fun of Spain after witnessing Romana bitch him out because she had caught him eating a potato.

It was at some point during Denmark and Hungary's conversation that Canada ambled by and asked where America was. Originally, neither of them heard him until Denmark felt a familiar sense of terror and noticed him. Canada once more repeated his question and Denmark shakily replied that she was in the bathroom. Canada had laughed at Denmark's terror before he headed off.

"What was that about?" Hungary asked with interest, watching Canada's retreating back momentarily before turning back to Denmark.

Denmark looked somewhat perplexed. "What was what about?"

"Since when have you been so scared of… uh… um… that guy?"

Denmark harrumphed. "I'm not _scared_ of him. I'm just… _wary_. Anyone who lives that far up north is never up to any good. America told me that if you punch a Canadian in the face _they_ apologize. What kind of freaks are that polite? I don't like the way his country is just hovering over hers like that. It's suspicious."

Hungary tapped her chin thoughtfully. This whole situation sounded… _interesting_.

"So, you and Canada," she continued, "would you say that you two have a lot of… _tension_ between you both?"

"Eh?" Denmark scratched his head. "Yeah, I guess, now that I'm actually with America."

"Yes, yes, yes." Hungary pretended not to hear that last part because her mind was in overdrive and if Denmark was dating America that would get in the way of her _plans_. Her excellent, wonderful, amazing plans!

"Aw, shit, Prussia's harassing Norway again, the fucker." Denmark sighed and quickly excused himself before Norway attacked him with a troll or whatever again.

Hungary waved him off as she yanked out her cell phone and fired off a few texts to certain people this matter would interest.

_So Denmark says there's tension between him and Canada_ , Hungary thought with an evil laugh. This startled several nations that stood nearby and prompted them to back away slowly before the crazy lady whipped out her frying pan again. _But is it because of dislike? Is this really just tension? Or… is this_ sexual _tension?_

Hungary laughed again. The game was afoot!

* * *

"Hey, Gil!"

Prussia couldn't stop sweating like a sinner in church. When Hungary had come to him with one eensy, weensy, tiny request that turned out to be something that could easily get him killed, he was going to say no. No with a captain 'N' and a capital 'O'. And several exclamation marks after that. But that bitch had used her boobs and her wits (mostly her boobs) and had convinced him to do _it_.

Oh, God. He was going to die. He couldn't keep a secret. He just couldn't! Why would she ask him to do this? Prussia decided America would respond best to honesty. Yes, he would be up-front with her and tell her what was going on and—

Who was he kidding? America would judo chop him so hard across the face that everything he ate would taste like sludge for years!

But America had arrived at his house. She was already there. And Prussia was going to die without ever getting to invade Hungary's vital regions ever again. And he'd wanted to do it so bad! He'd wanted to do it over and over again, too! But apparently the universe had decided that Prussia was going to die by America's hand, and probably in the most violent manner possible. She'd probably dismember him and feed him to her pet crocodile. Or maybe she'd shove him into a barrel and throw him into a volcano. Or even worse, she'd package him up like a present and deliver him to Russia's house!

Just as he was starting to _really_ internally panic, America presented him with a pumpkin pie and a "horror" movie.

"Let's watch _Killer Slug Man_ and eat pie!" She bounced on the balls of her feet excitedly. "Is Germany home? Does he want to watch, too?"

There was a loud shout and a thumping noise from upstairs, followed by the sound of someone frantically opening a window and jumping out of it. A _thump_ sounded from outside, and both Prussia and America looked out the window to see Germany hurriedly army-crawling to his car. He then got in and drove off, tires squealing and everything. Within seconds, the car was out of sight.

"He must have heard you," Prussia said. "Vhatever you did to him, it really freaked him out. It's hilarious!"

America just shrugged. "His loss. Because after we watch _Killer Slug Man_ , we're going to watch _Killer Slug Man II: Slug Man Unleashed_!"

That sounded less-than-appealing, but Hungary's instructions had been very clear. He had to keep America preoccupied, and what better way to do that than watch horror movies with her?

_As long as I don't think about it, lying won't be a problem_ , Prussia reassured himself. _Just think about other things. Be strong. Be a man, dammit! Steel yourself! Mind over matter! If you keep your head in the game, you awesome man, you, nothing she can say or do will make you—_

"So, how's your day been?" America asked casually as she headed for the television.

Prussia cracked immediately. "It vasn't my idea! It vasn't! I'm innocent! She tricked me vith her boobs and her vords! Mostly her boobs because they are almost as awesome as me! And she batted her eyelashes and talked about sexual tension and it vasn't my idea! I svear it! Just don't send me to Russia!"

America blinked, clearly confused by Prussia's seemingly random outburst. "Um… what the fuck are you talking about, blabbermouth?"

"Nothing! Nothing!" Prussia quickly grabbed the DVD from her hands and started to get it all set up. "Let's just vatch this and eat pie and forget I said anything about anything!"

"No. Tell me." America tapped her foot impatiently. " _Now_."

"I can't!"

"Oh, really?"

" _Ja_ , I have been svorn to secrecy!" Prussia puffed out his chest. "The awesome me vill not be so easily convinced to go back on an awesome secret!"

America narrowed her eyes at him. Prussia continued to get the movie ready, but he quickly felt the weight of America' glare. That weight only got heavier and heavier until he was once more sweating so profusely that he was pretty sure he was going to get dehydrated. He made his ultimate mistake when he decided to head for the kitchen to get a glass of water and came face-to-face with America. She stood there, still glaring. Perched on her shoulder was Gilbird, who was also glaring.

"If you won't tell me, Gilbird will." America turned and raised a hand, stroking Gilbird's head. "Won't you, you adorable, awesome little fluffy guy?"

Gilbird let out an affirmative tweet and actually gave Prussia a dirty look that screamed _haha, loser, I'm going to tell her and she's going to give me ALL the cuddles and treats_!

"Hell, no, Gilbird is no traitor!" Prussia cried almost desperately.

_Yes I am,_ Gilbird seemed to reply. Gilbird then turned to America and began to tweet something in her ear.

"No, shit!" America laughed. "Porn's in Germany's closet? In the box labeled 'taxes'? That's a really good hiding place…"

Prussia relaxed. If Gilbird was just going to tell her where the porn was, then it wasn't such a big deal.

_Yes! The awesome me has kept an awesome secret_! Prussia chortled a little to himself, mentally giving himself a pat on the back for his good work. _Hungary is going to be so proud! As long as I keep being so awesomely secretive, America won't find out that Hungary has set Denmark up on a date with someone else! She will probably throw herself at me and call me awesome and handsome. Ja, that sounds about right._

Prussia suddenly saw that both America and Gilbird were staring at him in surprise. Just as Gilbird began tittering nervously, America's expression darkened into one of pure, crazy rage.

And then Prussia realized he had said that all out loud.

Dammit.

* * *

To say Denmark had found himself in a very awkward position would be putting it mildly. But there he was at some fancy French restaurant in Paris, sitting across from Canada, who looked just as uncomfortable (and enraged) as he did. All around them, violins were playing and the lights were turned down low in an almost—ugh, Denmark wanted to vomit just thinking about it— _romantic_ way.

"Okay, seriously," he said loudly, causing Canada to jump in a surprise, "what the _fuck_ is going on?"

"Not quite sure myself," Canada replied. "But I got this letter and I _thought_ I was going to be meeting America here, but I think I was misled. Did _you_ actually send me that sparkly invite, hoser?"

"You got a sparkly invite, too?" Denmark groaned. "Did she want to meet us both?"

Denmark then decided that America must have realized that Canada was a douchebag bully and wanted to bitch him out and defend his honor while her brother watched because she just loved him that much. He grinned as he imagined what kind of profanities she would verbally attack that polar bear psychopath with.

On the other side of the table, Canada decided that America must have realized that Denmark was a moron who clearly was not worthy of her and she wanted to break up with him while Canada watched because she was a good little sister. He grinned as he imagined Denmark bursting into tears while America unceremoniously dumped him.

To put it short, they were both in LaLa Land. And as a result, both of them decided to stick around.

Meanwhile, Hungary, Japan and France were hovering in the vicinity. Japan had been more leery about trying to set Denmark up with Canada knowing full well that America would She-Hulk out if she found out. But Hungary's plan would probably work and the idea of seeing some real-life yaoi in action was just too good to pass up. Denmark and Canada were perfect specimens.

"Honononon~ when do you think they will start making out?" France asked. He was disguised as a waiter and was currently pouring some fine wine into glasses for their two hopeful lovebirds.

"Just give them some alcohol and sweets," Hungary advised. "Surely they won't be able to stand the sexual tension soon and we'll see some real action!"

That's when Hungary's phone began to go off. She blinked, surprised, and quickly answered, keeping her voice hushed to make sure Denmark and Canada didn't hear her.

"Yes? What is it? I'm sort of busy right now, so—"

" _Run_!" Prussia's voice was frantic. Hungary could hear him panting, almost like he was sprinting for his life, as he screamed into the phone. " _You have to run_! _She's crazy_! _She's coming to eat your soul or someth_ —"

Prussia was cut off suddenly and Hungary could hear his phone clatter to the ground. Before the line went dead, Hungary heard the most terrifying evil chuckling.

Hungary balked and dropped her phone like it was covered in acid. Had Prussia been killed? This was awful! That meant America was coming and her yaoi fantasy was dead!

No. No, no, no. It was _not_ ending this way.

"Francis, we have to work fast," Hungary advised. She instructed him to hand Denmark and Canada a note. Quickly, she relayed their situation—that they were running away from a jealous girlfriend who happened to be prone to nightmarish violence—and rushed off to grab her frying pan.

She was here to take pictures of sexy gay boys and anyone who got in the way of that was going to get bitch slapped with her frying pan.

* * *

"The aquarium?" Canada frowned as they began to walk around awkwardly. Denmark didn't really like aquariums simply because he didn't trust fish—they had those creepy dead eyes. And what the fuck did they do all day? Swim around? Eat? Plot to overthrow everyone on land? Plus, Norway used to leave dead fish in his bed a lot.

This situation was getting increasingly weird as well. Halfway through their bottle of wine, which Denmark had been nervously gulping down while Canada glared at him and ominously drank his own, they had gotten a message from their waiter saying that they were needed at the aquarium. It was all suspiciously feeling like some kind of date.

But Canada hated him, right? _Right_?!

_Oh, dear God in Heaven, if you're listening, please, please, PLEASE save me_. How was Denmark supposed to deal with this psychopath? The only thing scarier than Canada hating him would be Canada _flirting_ with him. Was this some elaborate plan to get in Denmark's pants?

Canada, meanwhile, had begun to have similar suspicions. This was seeming less and less like America attempting to break up with Denmark and more and more like Denmark shyly trying to trick him into a date. Worse, a stereotypical date, like one of the ones Canada had read in some of that fucking yaoi France had practically forced him to read.

Had Canada not been clear in his dislike of Denmark? That bastard was pawing at his sister! And he had the nerve to try to seduce Canada, too?! He had always known America had pretty lousy taste in men, but this was ridiculous.

The both of them uncomfortably stepped away from each other. Denmark watched some bright yellow fish swim by with distaste while Canada wondered if he could somehow shove Denmark into the octopus enclosure and get away with it.

They then heard a lot of noise coming from somewhere near the entrance of the aquarium. Denmark looked over his shoulder and let out a (manly) shriek while Canada just balked, feeling kind of horrified and full of pride.

America was wearing what looked like some kind of Rambo outfit, complete with the ridiculously massive guns. She was dragging a bound and gagged Prussia after her. There was a broken frying pan on the ground and Hungary was looking downright panicked while Japan attempted to hide and France had long ago run off to hide, unwilling to be on the abused end of America's verbal and physical lashings _again_.

"What do you _mean_ I can't bring guns in here?" America yelled at one of the employees. The poor guy looked like he wanted to cry. "I'm American, dammit! Fucking Frenchies…"

Suddenly, she zeroed in on Denmark and Canada and looked downright shocked. She dragged Prussia over to where Canada and Denmark were standing/trembling and looked between them.

"Hungary set _you two_ up on a date?" She sniffed and then dropped Prussia and grabbed Denmark, throwing him over her shoulder. She then leveled Canada with a glare. "He's _mine_. If I find out you tried _anything_ , I swear to God, I will steal _all_ your maple syrup!"

"You wouldn't!" Canada gasped, looking horrified, as if he had just experienced the most terrible betrayal he had ever witnessed in his life.

"I _would_!" America's grip on Denmark tightened a little bit. "If you want to see your maple syrup alive, keep this in mind: Denmark is _mine_. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go violate him in a violent manner."

Denmark, who had been troubled at being tossed around like a rag doll, suddenly looked incredibly pleased with the sudden turn of events.

"Oh, Prussia, Hungary, and anyone else who may have been involved with this ridiculous scheme, just know that I _will_ find you. I will not stop tormenting you until you are in a deep, dark hole and your life is in shambles and all you can think is _why, oh why did I ever fuck with America_?"

As she walked out, Denmark glanced up at everyone as he was carried away. "Uh… yeah! What she said! True love, bitches!"

* * *

After those two had long vacated, Japan hurried back home to beg Taiwan to let him hide at her place until everything blew over. Canada had a sudden surge of respect for Denmark for dealing with America on a regular basis and, what's more, clearly loving her despite the fact that she was probably institutional.

But he still hated that guy.

Hungary eventually got over mourning her frying pan and vowed to buy a new, better one. She quickly rushed over to Prussia and untied him.

"I'm so sorry I got you involved in this!" Hungary sputtered, pulling the gag off of him. Prussia shrugged and smoothed down his torn-up clothes. "I didn't know America was going to tie you up like this!"

"After you spend enough time vith the being tied up isn't the veirdest thing she does." Prussia patted Hungary's shoulder as if to make her feel a little bit better. "The good news is she has the short-term memory of a squirrel with ADHD, so in about a veek, she'll forget this happened. Until then you should probably hide. And I should, too."

"Do you have a place in mind?"

Prussia shrugged. "I'm thinking of hiding out in Cuba. She won't step foot there."

Hungary tugged on the hem of her skirt thoughtfully. "Would you… uh, would you like company?"

An extended stay with Hungary on a tropical island? Prussia was pretty sure he couldn't say yes fast enough.

But he had to remember to be a cool guy, so he just cleared his throat nodded. " _Ja_ , of course."

"Oh, does the awesome Prussia think I'm awesome enough to spend a holiday with?" Hungary laughed when he turned bright red. "I'll go pack a few things and then we can flee for our lives."

Prussia nodded dumbly as Hungary walked off. Hungary couldn't help but think that Prussia was certainly an awkward, sweet kind of guy, even if he did act like he was raised by apes sometimes.

But she kind of liked him. Sort of. Although, who knew how she would feel by the time they came back home? Hungary grinned. She couldn't wait.


	25. Some Peoples Kids

China heard the incessant knocking on his door and made a _tsk_ noise, setting aside his half-drunk cup of tea to answer. Honestly, he had been looking forward to a nice, quiet evening, free of stress and his stupid little brother, South Korea, who had announced that he would be gone for the weekend because he was going to some kind of comic convention at America's place with Japan. China had been invited as well, but he had quickly declined in favor of a, you know, _enjoyable_ evening.

"Who could that be, aru?" China muttered. He hoped to the stars or the moon or _anyone_ that it wasn't Russia. He cracked the door open nervously and was surprised to see a very-frazzled England, flanked by ever-stoic Norway and a pouting Romania on his doorstep. He was further surprised when he opened the door a bit more to see three little kids with them.

A little blonde girl that seemed somewhat familiar was being held by England. She had her face buried in England's neck, although she was peeking at China with one eye. The moment he glanced at her she wrapped her arms around England's neck tightly and hid her face even more.

The second child appeared to be a bit older and he stood at Norway's feet. Sporting wild blonde hair and big blue eyes, he was clumsily trying to hold a massive axe while elbowing the third boy, this one an albino, and…

Wait. Albino?

" _Ay-ya_!" China cried. "Are those—?"

"Yes," England replied tiredly. "I'm afraid they are."

China took a closer look. America was still huddled against England for dear life and, surprisingly, seemed almost shy. Denmark had abandoned his axe in favor of tackling Prussia to the ground. The two boys tussled and were quickly broken up by Norway, who, for his part, had a small twinkle of minor irritation in his otherwise stony expression.

"How did this happen, aru?!"

"It was their own fault!" Romania quickly interjected. England and Norway looked at him sharply, but he ignored them. "We were _trying_ to see if our dimensional travelling spell worked when these three came barging in! And then Denmark started bothering Norway and kept asking him to make him some leafee or—"

"Lefse. He wanted me to make him lefse."

"Yeah, lefse. And then America kept trying to drink all the potions because they were all pretty colors and Prussia just kept laughing and laughing and laughing and kept asking me to turn his fucking bird into a fucking _vampire_ bird—"

"So you turned them into _children_?" China literally couldn't think of anything more horrifying than those three as reckless young children. "For fuck's sake, why did you bring them _here_ , aru?!"

"We know you're experienced with children," England explained. "We were hoping you would be willing to watch them until we find a spell or potion that can fix this."

"It'll eventually fix itself anyway," Romania mumbled. "I don't see what the big deal is."

" _The United States of America is a four year old girl armed with nuclear bombs, that's what's the matter_!" England snapped. America, for her part, jumped a little at his loud voice near her ear.

"I'm so super-duper sorry Engy… Engwand," she whimpered, apparently misunderstanding and believing England was angry at her for being a little kid, as if she were somehow at fault here (and she kind of was). Nevertheless, England was powerless against her sweet baby face and her clumsily-spoken words. His face turned bright red and he sighed.

"Maybe we can just leave them as is," England said dreamily. "Yeah. Just like the golden days."

"Hold it," Norway snapped. He was glaring down at Denmark, who had begun to use his shoe as a chew toy, it seemed. "Yours may be cute, but I do _not_ want to take care of the demon seed chewing on my fucking foot."

England pouted but didn't say anything else as they all turned back to a still-dumbstruck China.

"Please, China," England said. "If you could just watch them for a little while so we can fix this whole mess… we'd be grateful."

"I'd also be able to show you a barrier spell that keeps unwanted guests off your property," Norway added. "For unwanted visitors, like people asking you to babysit their kids or little brothers that consistently try to grope your chest… that kind of stuff."

China had to admit that Norway's offer sounded nice. He gave a short nod and opened his door a bit more. "Fine, aru. Bring them in."

England carried America in while both Denmark and Prussia had to be separated and dragged in.

"Go ahead and put them down. How long should it take you to find some kind of cure?"

"For a minor spell like this it won't take too long," England said thoughtfully. "Several hours. They may be here late. Sorry about that."

Norway dumped Denmark on the ground so that he landed on his head while Romania yelped when Prussia bit his calf. As he attempted to shake the demon boy off, England gave America a fond look and a peck on the forehead.

"You be a good girl, alright, Amelia?" He ran his fingers through her hair and started to get a little giddy. "Maybe it would be okay to just leave _her_ as is. And she can be my colony again and I'll lover her and keep watch over her forever and ever and—"

"Okay, you're starting to get a little creepy," Romania grumbled. He and Norway managed to tear England away from America, who had begun to get a little teary-eyed upon seeing him leave her, and left.

The house was quiet for a little while. Eventually, the three children turned to look at China expectantly.

That was when Prussia glanced at America to his right and immediately chaos struck. He gasped and shoved her over, causing her to fall on her butt and stare up at him with big eyes.

"Hey!"

"I don't vant a gross girl standing by me!" Prussia stuck his tongue out mockingly.

America let out a scandalized gasp and then stood up to push _him_. "Well I don't wanna gross boy standing by _me_! You smell icky and you have cooties!"

" _Nein_ , YOU have cooties!"

"I do not!"

"Yes you do!"

"Not!"

"Do!"

"Not!"

Before Prussia could snap something back, China clapped his hands once loudly to get their attention. All of the children jumped and looked at him with some surprise.

"That's enough, aru!" China sighed and rubbed his temples. He already had a headache. "Prussia, no pushing America! And America, you, too. No pushing! No name calling! And we're going to use our _indoor_ voices while we—"

China fell silent when he realized that Denmark was nowhere to be found and neither was his axe. Gasping he told Prussia and America to wait there as he rushed off to find Denmark.

He ended up hearing some loud bashing noises coming from his office. China gasped as he threw open the door and saw Denmark clumsily smashing his axe against the wall, a slowly-growing hole forming.

"What are you doing?!" China managed to yank the axe out of Denmark's hands and held it out of his reach. Denmark then took to attempting to climb China as if he were a jungle gym. "Stop it, aru! Both feet on the ground!"

"You can't boss me around!" Denmark roared. "I'm the King of Scandinavia!"

China eventually managed to shake Denmark off somehow and hid the axe up where it wouldn't be found. He quickly hustled Denmark back into the living room and gaped at the sight before him.

Apparently a fight had once more broken out between Prussia and America, but in China's absence, America had managed to pin Prussia to the ground. She had both of Prussia's hands pinned behind his back and his stomach was pressed into the wood floor. Meanwhile, she sat perched on his back like some kind of warrior princess.

"Say it!" she commanded, tightening her grip.

"Never!"

"SAY IT!" she screamed. China was sure that the octave was so high only a dog could hear it properly. "SAY IT OR ELSE!"

"OR ELSE VHAT, LOSER?!"

America smacked him upside the head. "OR ELSE I'LL TELL EVERYONE YOU PEED THE BED!"

Prussia gasped and stilled underneath her. Finally, he grumbled, so quietly it was almost impossible to hear. "Girls rule and boys drool."

"That's what I _thought_." America then released him and stood up to give China an innocent smile. "Hey, lady!"

China stared at her quietly for a few moments before he grumbled, "Did you just call me a lady?"

"Yep!"

"I'm not a girl."

Prussia had decided to wander off and play with an antique vase that was, of course, expensive and held cultural significance. China quickly yanked the vase out of Prussia's reach and placed it elsewhere.

"You're a guy?!" America blinked. "But you're so pretty!"

China wasn't sure if he should be offended or feel complimented, but he decided that America was, at the moment, just a little girl and meant no harm by the comment.

America then looked at Denmark, who had decided to yank the cushions off of China's chairs in an effort to make some kind of fort. She walked over and peered at him until he sensed her stare.

"What?"

She grinned. "You're my boyfriend now, okay?"

"What?" Denmark gave her an incredulous look. "No I'm not! I don't like girls!"

Apparently, Denmark's desires flew right over America's head. She grabbed his arm and yanked him away from the cushions. "Okay, we're going to go stand under the shower while it's on so it's like we're in the rain and then you can kiss me, okay?"

"What?!" Denmark cast Prussia and panicked look, but Prussia was too busy snickering and making kissy noises at him to help. "I don't wanna kiss!"

"You're a boy, you don't know anything." America patted his head as if he were a simpleton and continued to cart him off to the bathroom. "Mister Lady, we're going to use your shower!"

"I think not, aru." China quickly swooped in and redirected them to the kitchen where blank pieces of white paper and colorful crayons littered the table. After a lot of finagling and hard work, he managed to get them all to sit in one place. "How about we color instead? Look, even Panda wants to color!"

Panda was sitting at the table right beside America. She let out a squeal of delight and hugged the creature while Denmark simply hopped out of his seat to go look for his axe and get away from his new "girlfriend". Prussia seemed rather interested in coloring, but not on paper—he grabbed the crayons and darted off to scribble gory images on the walls. Luckily, China ran off after him and managed to stop him before he could finish drawing what appeared to be crudely drawn breasts and brought him back to the table where Panda and America were sitting.

But it was not Panda and America at the table when China returned. Instead, it was America sitting in the lap of Russia, who was wearing a panda costume. America was eyeing Russia suspiciously and was yanking on his nose as if to check whether or not it was real.

"Mister Lady, who is this guy?" America continued to yank on his nose, although she did it a little more forcefully than before. Russia let out a pained groan but patiently moved her hand away from his face. "He's got a scary-ass face."

"Where did you learn such language, aru?! And when did _you_ get here?"

"I have better question to be asking," Russia replied easily as America poked his cheek roughly. "Why are these three so small and easy to throw around now?"

At the mention of throwing children around, China quickly grabbed America off of Russia's lap and backed away. Prussia had grabbed some more crayons and ran off to continue drawing on the walls.

"The Creepy was wearing a panda suit, Mister Lady," America said. Her mind then switched gears. "Can I have ice cream?"

China didn't want to deal with America on sugar. She was difficult to handle as an _adult_ after eating sweets. He couldn't imagine her as a kid.

"No."

That was _not_ the answer America wanted to hear. She squirmed around and attempted to hit China a few times. "But I want it! Gimme ice cream!"

"No, aru! You can't have any sugar! I won't allow it!"

"You're not my mom!" America then delivered a swift smack to China's chin and managed to free herself from his grip, scrambling down to the ground. Instead of throwing a temper tantrum, she sat on a chair and began to draw a picture.

"Okay…" China was too relieved that she was being quiet to be suspicious. He pointed at Russia. "What are you doing here?"

"Da, I was coming to say hello to my friend!" Russia smiled at China and then turned his gaze to America as she drew with conviction. "But I am seeing that much fun is happening here. Why are they so tiny?"

"Romania apparently put a spell on them, aru." China groaned and turned. "Can you keep an eye on her? I'm going to find the other two headaches."

Russia nodded and China hurried off. He thought he would find Prussia coloring on his walls, but the crayons and inappropriate pictures had been abandoned. He frowned, not liking the eerie silence that suddenly weighed down on him like an anchor.

He ended up finding them in his den. Both Denmark and Prussia were sitting in a corner, staring intently at an open book between them.

"What is he doing with his willy?" Prussia suddenly asked quietly. He pointed at something, his eyes wide. "Why is he doing _that_?"

"Never mind that, why doesn't _she_ have one? What _is_ that?" Denmark replied, his voice filled with equal parts fascination and disgust. "Why is she making that face? Does it hurt?"

China snatched the book up and sighed once he spotted the cover. Japan had brought over one of his hentai porn magazines in an effort to hide them because he was having Taiwan over and didn't want her to see it. China should have thrown it out, really, but it had slipped his mind.

And now he had subjected two boys to such twisted erotic images. The poor things.

"You shouldn't be looking at that! Get back to the kitchen! I'm going to make you something to eat, aru!"

Both boys let out victorious whoops and ran off loudly down the hallway. China decided that Russia could watch them for a few moments while he used the bathroom.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, America paused in her drawing to look up at Russia as if some kind of idea had suddenly come to her.

"Hey, Creepy, can _you_ give me ice cream?"

Russia raised an eyebrow and shook his head. " _Nyet_ , I believe China said you could not have any."

America then widened her eyes and gave him the most heart-wrenching puppy-dog look Russia had ever been subjected to in his life. It was a look that brought England to his knees every time and had gotten her her way so often that she had lost count.

"Oh, that is cute," Russia said, unable to look away for several moments. Just when his willpower was about to crumble, he snapped out of it when Denmark and Prussia came barreling in.

"Denny!" America was suddenly distracted and hugged Denmark as he sat down. He made a face and attempted to free himself from her grasp. "I wanna kiss! Now!"

"No!" Denmark whined. He began to attempt to shove her off, but she was attached to him like glue. "I don't wanna kiss!"

"You're my boyfriend, so you need to _always_ want to kiss me!"

"I don't wanna kiss you! You're a gross girl!"

America gasped as if she had been punched in the gut and let him go. Then, still pouting, she climbed into Russia's lap.

"Fine! The Creepy is my boyfriend now!"

Russia frowned. While he had always liked America in a sort of 'forbidden fruit' kind of way, he had no interest in any romance while she was in the body of a five-year-old.

Denmark apparently didn't really like that he had been so quickly replace. He sighed and pouted, kicking Prussia when he began to snicker.

"Fine, I'll kiss you. But just on the cheek."

"Yay!" America scrambled off Russia's lap and grabbed Denmark. Although he had said he wanted a kiss on the cheek, America gave him a sloppy kiss right on the lips.

Prussia burst out into laughter and began to chant 'Denmark and America, sitting in a tree' so loudly that the house practically shook. Denmark then launched himself at Prussia and tackled him to the ground. The pair began to fight furiously as America cheerfully grabbed her finished drawing and ran off to find China to give it to him.

She finally managed to find him in the bathroom. With little care for his privacy, she flung the door open and jumped in the room.

"Mister Lady! I finished your… your… what is _that_?! Why is it sticking out like that?!"

America then blatantly pointed at his area and turned white as a sheet. China, meanwhile, was frozen, staring at America and wondering what on Earth he had done to deserve being literally caught with his pants down by little America.

Quickly yanking his pants up, he tried his best to do damage control. "All boys have that part, America, it's alright, it's—"

"What _is_ it?" America looked to be on the verge of tears.

China inwardly groaned. Was he going to have to explain reproductive organs to her? "It's… it's called a… a penis…"

"No!" America shook her head quickly. "You got hurt! I'm going to tell the Creepy and he can come help you!"

With that America turned around and fled in tears. China chased after her, but he wasn't fast enough and watched in horror as America flung herself into Russia's lap and sobbed.

"Mister Lady got hurt!" She bawled. Denmark and Prussia didn't pause in their fighting, but Russia looked shell-shocked. "He has a thing dangling out and he said it was a peanut, but it can't be a peanut because I know what a peanut is!"

Russia was at a bit of a loss. He patted America's head and glanced at China in confusion. China just groaned. There was no way he could handle these three for _hours_ , even with Russia's help. He also suspected that Russia was just going to kidnap America and make her his colony or something and no one needed _that_ to happen.

"Oh, is this the picture you wanted to give China?" Russia was clearly attempting to distract her. He handed China the drawing she had done while the girl continued to weep.

China glanced down at the picture in his hands. It was a very girlish drawing—unicorns, flowers, bumblebees and a sun with a smiley face on it. But on the very bottom, written in angry red in messy child script was written: _I hat yuou Chinna gimme eyescreem_.

Well, _that_ was one for the refrigerator. _Not_.

Looking back, he wasn't proud of what he did. But looking at America as she wept and lamented the state of China's "peanut" to Russia and Denmark and Prussia's fighting got so rowdy that they were starting to destroy China's furniture, he knew he couldn't handle them much longer.

That was why he grabbed some sleeping pills and crushed them up and then put them into some ice cream. With a scary smile on his face, he watched the three of them eat it all. Within the next half hour, all of them were passed out. America hugged Denmark like a teddy bear on the rug and Prussia had gotten creative and decided to attempt to sleep in the cat bed.

When the Magic Trio finally arrived, England had been in a state after seeing his little sweet America sleeping like an angel. He had nearly destroyed the cure and was eventually locked in a different room so that the three of them could be brought back to normal.

"As much fun as that was, dude, let's not do it again," America said, clapping China roughly on the back. "Alright, Denmark! Come with me! You're making up for calling me a 'gross girl'!"

"Oh, and China, make sure to get your peanut checked," Denmark called over his shoulder. The Awesome Trio burst out in laughter as they left.

Russia clapped his friend reassuringly on the back. "Some peoples kids, da?"


	26. Fifty Shades of Captain Underpants

"Alright, alright, losers, it is time to call this meeting to order!" Prussia grabbed his makeshift gavel (it was actually an empty soda can America had thrown at Prussia's head earlier) and slammed it into the tabletop a few times to get everyone's attention. Once he had successfully done so, he continued. "Let the Awesome Trio meeting commence! Today ve are doing something just a bit different. Apparently _some_ people seem to think that ve are either illiterate or that ve only read porn magazines and the backs of cereal boxes."

"Actually, the backs of cereal boxes have a lot of fun information," America said. She turned to address England, who was seated beside her and already looked annoyed. "Artie, did you know that the oldest condoms ever found date back to the 1640s? They were found in a cesspit in Dudley Castle. They were made from the intestines of animals and fish."

"God, I hate fish," Denmark grumbled. "It's those fucking dead eyes, man."

England ignored Denmark and gave America a _look_. "There is absolutely no way you read that off the back of a cereal box!"

"No, it's just something I know," America replied. "But according to a Captain Crunch box, I did read that the largest snowflake ever recorded was fifteen inches across."

"You're the only one here who uses the Imperial system, Amelia," England reminded her. "No one knows what 'fifteen inches' means."

"It means whatever the fuck you want it to mean," America grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting a bit.

"Vould you two save your arguing for later or vhatever?" Prussia glanced over at Hungary and rolled his eyes. She gave an amused chuckle, followed by her undivided attention. "Ve kind of have an intelligent meeting to run."

"I doubt that," England grumbled, but he quickly shut up when America elbowed him roughly in the ribs.

"Anyvay, to prove these false accusations as totally lame and not true, ve all agreed that for our next meeting ve vould bring books. Only the most awesome books that losers can't handle. I vill go first because I am the most awesome!"

England was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that no intelligent conversation about literature was ever going to happen, especially with someone like Prussia at the helm. Really, _he_ should be in charge of that kind of thing. No one boasted better literature than _he_ did. Well, America often said books from her home were better, but a) America was delusional and b) America had binged on Harry Potter novels and had spent the better half of the turn of the millenium wearing Gryffindor t-shirts and referring to Russia as 'he who must not be named'. When she had been informed that J.K. Rowling was, in fact, English, America had plugged her ears and hummed the American national anthem loudly in an effort to block out England's 'useless facts'.

Prussia suddenly whipped out a thick book from God-knows-where with a picture of a dinosaur skeleton on it. _Jurassic Park_ by Michael Crichton. Prussia hadn't _actually_ read the book-why do that when there was a movie version, after all-but he figured it was probably all science-y and it was pretty big. Hopefully Hungary was impressed. Then again, who wouldn't be?

He glanced down at Hungary, lapsing into silence, as if waiting for applause. Hungary seemed to realize he was waiting for something and gave him a smile.

"How wonderful!" she said. "Um… what's your favorite dinosaur?"

Prussia blinked. He hadn't been prepared for a trick question. After some quick thinking, he blurted, "The one vith the teeth."

Denmark faked a sneeze-attack, letting out a "loser" in between his fake hacking. Prussia ended up throwing _Jurassic Park_ at his head, forcing Denmark to jump out of his seat to avoid being nailed in the head.

"Personally, I've always liked Cthulhu," America commented.

England groaned. "That's not a dinosaur."

Scoffing, America shot England an annoyed _you're harshing my buzz, dude_ look. "Okay, riddle me this, Professor Ass-turd: what is _your_ favorite dinosaur?"

"I prefer the stegosaurus."

"Boo! Lame!" America cat-called. Denmark threw in a few 'boos' of his own while Prussia seemed fine giving England a superior smirk, as if somehow he had failed some kind of pop quiz.

Sealand was Denmark's guest during the meeting and was more than pleased to see jerk England get the exact sort of treatment he deserved. Denmark had brought his 'nephew' along because Sweden and Finland wanted a weekend alone and Denmark had eagerly volunteered to take the kid in for a while. Sealand liked building Lego cities almost as much as Denmark did, and he didn't half-ass it like _some_ people he could mention (coughcoughNORWAYcoughcough). Even America's Lego building skills could use some fine-tuning. Building Lego cities with her inevitably ended up with either her pretending to be Godzilla and destroying their creation in a violent manner or with her stepping on a Lego, which usually caused her to limp around his house and sob and ask how much it would cost to just amputate her foot.

In any case, Denmark liked having Sealand around. Not only did it give him an excuse to skip work for a few days to build a Lego-replica of every major city on Earth with a kid who actually took that shit seriously, it also gave him a chance to teach Sealand that there was more to life than IKEA and Moomins. Things like Legos.

And now Denmark was taking him to something educational. Well, sort of. It had books, so Sweden and Finland couldn't complain.

"Are we going to keep arguing about dinosaurs or are we actually going to talk about books?" England had finally shouted, red in the face from arguing with America whether or not Megalodon could beat Titanoboa. After ultimately realizing the argument was useless (and that he was losing), England had decided to switch the subject.

"My turn then?" Denmark turned to Sealand and gave a thumbs up. "Did you bring them?"

"Of course I did!" Sealand pulled out a massive box filled to the brim with _Captain Underpants_ novels.

England smacked his forehead and groaned. They simply _had_ to be kidding, right? Denmark was supposed to be a (somewhat) funny fellow, right? So he had to be joking. Perhaps he had read them to Sealand and had brought them in because the brat had begged and pleaded for him to do so. Surely he hadn't brought a series of crude children's novels that focuses on fart jokes more than character development and an actual plot than… than…

But the goofy grin on Denmark's face confirmed England's suspicions. He had a suspicion that these were, in fact, _Denmark's_ books, not Sealand's, and Denmark read them of his own free will.

"Personally, my favorite is _The Perilous Plot of Professor Poopypants_ ," Denmark was saying, picking one of the books up to show off. The worst part was that everyone else in the room watched intently, as if he were actually showing a novel worthy of merit. "Although _The Attack of the Talking Toilets_ is pretty good, too."

If England weren't annoyed and dispirited enough, what America had to say next made him want to throw himself on a sword.

"Really?" America cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "I always liked _The Wrath of the Wicked Wedgie Woman_ best."

"I like _The Invasion of the Incredibly Naughty Cafeteria Ladies from Outer Space_ ," Prussia added.

"I've never read them," Hungary commented, and England breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, his relief was shattered when she asked, "Can I borrow them? They sound quite funny!"

Prussia was staring at her like he had just realized she was the love of his life while Denmark handed the pile of books over.

Eager to hurry up and end this ridiculous meeting, England quickly prompted America to talk about _her_ selection. He suspected it would be something stupid, like _Twilight_ (in the height of her Twi-Hard days she had worn a 'TEAM JACOB' t-shirt and her car had sported an 'I BRAKE FOR SPARKLY BOYS' bumper sticker that she denies she ever had). Perhaps she would decide to actually bring something worthy to talk about, like a Ray Bradbury novel or maybe some Stephen King. Although he also suspected she could have very well decided to bring a comic book so she could talk and talk and talk about superheroes none of them knew about and storylines none of them cared about.

But when England saw the nasty, evil smile on her face as she pulled out a book he never, _ever_ wanted to talk about, he knew he was in for it. Perhaps she had brought him along for a specific purpose, and he was just now realizing what that purpose might be.

"Today I brought a novel that's become quite the pop-culture phenomenon," she announced, showing the cover off. All the guys were quiet while Hungary let out a squeal of delight. " _Fifty Shades of Grey_."

"Amelia," England hissed. "Shut up right now. Put that away."

"You might want to cover his ears, Mathias," America told Denmark, pointing at Sealand. Sealand began to protest until America began to dig around in her bag and ended up pulling out a few eggs. Handing them to Sealand, she instructed, "Here, go throw these at some cars while we talk about this icky adult book."

The boy eagerly took the eggs and rushed off to pummel England's car, no doubt.

"That was a wonderful example of prime parenting skills, Amelia," England observed dryly.

"Oh," America replied, her tone a little _too_ innocent, "what should I have done instead, oh Great One? Effectively force my way into his land and take it for myself? Taxed him without representation? Go to war with him and then shun him for the better part of-"

"Okay, okay, we get it," Denmark said quickly, hoping to diffuse what could very well become a full-blown screaming match between them. Despite having a 'Special Relationship', there were certain topics that were still sore subjects for the both of them. "Tell us more about your book, Mia. Isn't it the one with all the sex?"

"Oh, yes! Tons and tons and _tons_ of it!" America was quickly distracted. "There is this girl, Anastasia Steele, who meets this big entrepreneur named Christian Grey, right? Well, Christian reveals that he wants to have this sexual relationship with her and wants her to sign all these contracts that forbid her from talking about their relationship or even doing stuff like making eye contact or touching him because he wants this whole dominance/submission thing."

Hungary's eyes were glazed over as she thought about her favorite sex scene and Prussia was starting to turn red in the face with all this talk about BDSM and with the major 'I'm starting to get horny' vibes he was getting from Hungary. Denmark, meanwhile, was hyper-focused on what America was saying while England did his best to tune her out.

"So then Christian takes Ana's virginity," America said, her eyes glazing over. "It was way better than when I lost _my_ virginity. Mine was all kinds of awkward-"

"Probably because you sort of led Elvis to believe you had a penis," Prussia pointed out. England groaned, not wanting to know the nature of his little sister's sex life and Denmark groaned because he did _not_ like hearing about any of America's past flings.

"I guess that did sort of ruin the mood a bit," America said thoughtfully. "Anyway, Christian takes Ana's virginity without the contract signed or anything. And then they have sex _again_ the next morning and, oh, my God, Christian is a total beast in bed and Ana's all like…"

And then America let out the most dramatic moan of pleasure anyone had ever heard. It would have been enough to make a porn star blush and smack her on the arm to get her to quiet down. England quietly contemplated suicide while Denmark fought the urge to simultaneously grab that book for vigorous research and to jump his girlfriend, who was still moaning and occasionally throwing in a breathless, "More! More! Don't stop!" Prussia was desperately trying to get the party currently taking place in his pants to calm down while Hungary fanned herself, a big smile on her face.

"Oh, my God, STOP IT!" England smacked America upside the head, causing her to stop mid-moan. She stuck out her lower lip and rubbed the back of her head, sending England a glare.

"Well, then Christian is all, 'Sign this contract' and Ana's all, 'I don't want sex and whips and stuff without love' and runs off, but then she sees him rambling on at her college graduation and she's like, 'I'm totes horny, let's do this.'"

England glanced at the window, wondering if he could survive if he jumped out. They were only two stories up and if he broke his legs… well, he didn't really _need_ those, anyway…

"So they go over the contract and then Christian _spanks_ her for the first time and she's all, 'Um, okay, this is stimulating in my lady area but also confusing?' And he does all this stuff, like takes her to meet his parents and gives her all these gifts and sexes her up. Eventually Ana gets pissy because she's confused and hates all the restrictions Christian put on her and she was all, 'Hey, punish me' so he _beats her with a belt_. And then she realizes they aren't compatible and then she just kind of peaces out and that's where it ends."

America ended with flourish, giving a bow when she was applauded. England hoped she would leave it at that and not mention the one thing he really, _really_ didn't want to talk about.

"Fun little trivia," America suddenly added, making England's stomach drop. "Did you know that _Fifty Shades of Grey_ was originally-"

"Amelia," England said, his tone that of a warning.

"- _Twilight_ fanfiction?" America beamed, shooting England an evil look. "And author E.L. James is actually-"

"I swear, if you say it, I'll remind everyone about the time you had an afro," England hissed so only America could hear.

America paused, seeming to decide between everyone suddenly remembering the decade she had sported the worst hairstyle of her life and showing England up.

"E.L. James is British!" America blurted.

Everyone looked at England, who turned bright red. This novel, from _his_ country, had been originally published as _Twilight_ fanfiction. He had hoped America would never find out, but no doubt someone (probably Hungary) had told her to read the books and America's curiosity had gotten the best of her and then she had done some research and found out that even England had his embarrassing literature.

"I trust that after this, _Twilight_ will no longer be discussed," America said smugly. She then paused and pulled two more copies of the book out of her purse. She handed one to Denmark that had a post-it on the cover reading ' _Instruction Manual_ '. Denmark immediately opened the book and began to read.

America then handed the other one to Prussia and winked at him, jerking her chin toward Hungary, who was still fantasizing about something, no doubt something erotic, judging by her blush. Prussia, too, immediately began to read.

Turning to England, America raised an eyebrow and pulled out another copy. He rolled his eyes.

"How many copies did you buy?" he questioned, begrudgingly accepting the book.

America shrugged. "As many as I need." She then pulled out another one, sat down, and began reading. Hungary, meanwhile, had decided to get a start on _Captain Underpants_.

The room was quiet until Sealand came back, having run out of eggs to throw. Seeing all the adults were busy reading, he sighed and decided to pass the time by calling Latvia and harassing him about throwing eggs at cars the next time they hung out.

It wasn't until later that England realized something. Despite claiming that they read more than porn magazines and the backs of cereal boxes…. they had discussed the backs of cereal boxes and had read what was effectively porn more than they had talked about real books.

_Those bloody idiots_.


	27. America In The Sky With Diamonds

The seventies were a weird time for America. Sure, the sixties hadn't exactly been "normal", either, but in the seventies, she had fallen under the Hippie Movement rather quickly.

These days, though, she was a bit more normal, or as normal as everyone assumed America could be. No longer was she walking into meetings spouting about world peace and the naturally good qualities of dope. No more random war protests during meetings or calling everything she liked "groovy". She didn't drive that weird green Volkswagen van or whip out a bong at any moment in time or refuse to wear a bra because it felt like she was being "caged" every time she did.

It had been years since anyone had seen anything like that, save for walking in on her having the occasional blunt that she was always so quick to hide.

So it was really kind of fucking weird when she walked into an Awesome Trio meeting wearing a hippie skirt, a tank top that read "PEACE" across the chest and flowers woven into her hair. She was very obviously smoking a joint and gave her friends a big, happy smile.

"Yo, wazzup?" America took a drag and then tossed the blunt carelessly into a potted plant near the door before she slid into her seat next to Denmark. She absolutely reeked of marijuana smoke and incense. "What's the buzz?"

Prussia and Denmark stared at her quietly for a few long moments before they looked at each other, and then back at her.

"What's up with the duds, groovy chick?" Denmark asked, laughing a little. He clearly thought America was messing with them, as she was apt to do, although her idea of a "practical joke" usually involved something that could inflict bodily harm, like the time she attached a sea urchin to Prussia's leg while he had had his back foolishly turned to her at the beach once. So dressing up as if she had just stepped out of the seventies was mild, to say the least.

America's red eyes slid over toward him and she gave him a dopey smile. "Just some clothes to veg out in, you dig?"

"Uh-huh." Now Denmark was a little more confused, mostly because she wasn't breaking character like she normally would. "Did, uh, something happen recently, Mia?"

"Uh… dropped acid about a half hour ago, so I should be feelin' groovy pretty quick here."

" _Acid_?!" Prussia gaped at her, as did Denmark. "Vhat the fuck is going on?! Did you hit your head this morning?!"

"Stop dippin' in my Kool-Aid, man." America rolled her eyes. "It's no biggie."

Denmark was already on the phone with England, hoping for some clarification on what the hell was going on.

" _Hullo_?"

"England!" Denmark glanced at America, who looked to be zoning out while Prussia was standing behind her, poking her shoulder almost nervously, like he was afraid she was two seconds away from going Hannibal Lector on him. "Something's up with Amelia. She's, uh—"

" _Oh, yes, that_." England cleared his throat almost nervously. " _It was a bit of a mistake, a minor spell that should wear off in a few hours. I may have accidentally hit her with a little something that was meant for France, but… well. It's not permanent_."

"You basically used your magic and made her all… hippie-like?!"

" _Oh, is she reliving the 70s? That was a strange time for her, wasn't it_?" England actually laughed a little. " _She often told me to calm down and 'smoke a J', as I recall. Have fun with that. The spell was specifically to put that person back into their low point, and I suppose that could have been it, if you want to look at it that way. I don't think she even remembers the 70s_."

Denmark was seething. He was going to _kill_ England when America got better, because God knew he couldn't just leave her after she'd mentioned she had dropped acid.

As if to somehow remind him of this, America let out a terrified scream. Denmark quickly grumbled that he had to go and hung up before whirling around to try to keep the situation under control.

America was hiding under the table, her knees to her chest as she shook, clearly terrified. She had a pair of headphones in her ears. Upon closer inspection, Denmark saw that she was listening to Prussia's iPod.

"What is she listening to?" Denmark asked flatly, turning to glare at Prussia.

"Just some of my music." Prussia shrugged.

Oh, no. That was not a good thing. Carefully, Denmark asked, "What music _exactly_?"

"Just some Rammstein."

Oh, no. No, no, _nej_ and furthermore NO. Denmark quickly smacked Prussia upside the head and then knelt so that he could peek at America under the table.

Now that Denmark was listening for it, he could hear the guitars and growling words coming from the headphones. He reached over and snatched the headphones off of her, throwing the iPod back at Prussia.

"Hey, Mia," Denmark said, scooting under the table after her. It looked like she was _not_ having a good trip. "It's Denmark. Mathias. Remember?"

"Eh?" America looked at him and then gave him a shaky smile. "Oh, yeah! Thank God you're here!"

Denmark then noticed that she was sitting completely still, her arms looking cemented to her sides. She was giving him a purposeful look, as if there was something he should have definitely noticed.

" _Ja_ … what's going on?"

Prussia, meanwhile, had also scooted under the table, a bit pissy about Denmark unawesomely throwing his iPod just because he was letting America listen to his awesome music. But even if Denmark was an asswipe, America was still his friend and he was at least marginally freaked out by her behavior.

"You need to say goodbye to everyone for me," America informed them seriously.

"Vhy do we need to do that?" Prussia asked after a beat. America's tone had suggested she was never going to see them again. "Are you going somewhere?"

America gave them both looks as if it was so obvious. "Well, I'm a banana now. So I'm going to die and I need you to let everyone know."

Both men watched as she closed her eyes and laid down, apparently preparing herself to be eaten. After a few long moments, her eyes flew open and she sat up, smashing her head against the tabletop and letting out a loud cry.

"Ah! _For fanden!_ " Denmark quickly yanked America out from under the table and sat her down, frowning as he became concerned that she might have a concussion. "Mia, are you alright?"

"Please, like she hasn't hit her head vay harder on things," Prussia commented. "She's also stomached some crazy shit. Remember vhen she ate England's sofa instead of his food? Ha!"

America's eyes suddenly flew open and Denmark and Prussia were stunned into silence at how massive her pupils were. She grabbed Denmark's shirt, gasping as if she just realized something horrible.

"Where is the music? Where has it gone?!"

Denmark groaned as Prussia fist-pumped. He then offered her his iPod but America made a face and brusquely shoved the device away.

"Please. You wouldn't know a song from a frog!" America then got in Prussia's face, harshly poking him in the chest with each word she spoke. " _Song_. _Frog_. They're _different_. DUH, dude!"

She then shoved Prussia back and before he could fall over, she suddenly yanked on his arm, reeling him back. He swallowed visibly as she eyed him with interest and then glanced at Denmark momentarily, her eyes thoughtful.

"So, are we gonna do this, dudes?" Hooking one arm through Prussia's, then one through Denmark's, she began to drag them off.

"Vhere are ve going?!"

"We have to use our bodies," America replied sagely. "It's our duty to Mother Earth."

Prussia gaped and then looked at Denmark for confirmation. "Is she suggesting vhat I think she's suggesting?"

Denmark groaned. "I think so, but it's really not happening."

" _Nein_ , it isn't."

Denmark cast Prussia a suspicious look. His friend would normally be all for something like this, although maybe he didn't like the idea of a Devil's three way? Denmark couldn't say the idea was entirely pleasing to him, but he didn't realize Prussia wouldn't be cool with it.

Maybe Prussia wasn't cool with it because he had a special someone? He'd been hanging around Hungary a lot, now that he thought about it…

Although now was not the time to be nosy and truthfully, Denmark figured Prussia would spill the beans at some point, anyway.

Just as they were exiting the building, they bumped into Belarus, who was sort of lurking around. The girl immediately zeroed in on America and walked over, frowning as America stared back at her.

"What?" America gasped, stumbling back. "No, no, not a four way! It's too much woooooork! Nooooooo-"

Belarus looked at Denmark sharply. "What is wrong with her?"

"She, uh… she dropped acid. She's having a… weird trip," Denmark replied uneasily. Belarus was so fucking terrifying, seriously. She was definitely Russia's sister, no doubt about it.

"Why was she allowed to do this?" Belarus sighed as America continued to wail about how difficult it would be to service three people and promptly put America in a sleeper hold. Within a few moments, America was fast asleep.

"She vasn't _allowed_ to do this," Prussia replied as Denmark scooped America up and checked her pulse. "She just _did_ it."

"Hm." Belarus looked at them shrewdly before resting her eyes on America again, that creepy glint back. "Do not let it happen again or I will _not_ be happy. And neither will big brother."

With that, Belarus turned and walked away.

Denmark had to give pause, a chill running down his spine at the mention of Belarus's brother. Prussia, meanwhile, seemed to take the comment with a grain of salt and started going off about how the hot ones were always the crazy ones.

Denmark had to beg the question: Just what did Russia have to do with America's health? He had a feeling he really wouldn't like the answer.


	28. All Hail The Lego King

Denmark really liked kids. He figured it was because he was somewhat like a giant kid himself, even after hundreds upon hundreds of years of war and death. Still, though, he had clung to that childishness because he was pretty sure if he didn't then things would quickly become _unsavory_.

Because Denmark didn't have any kids of his own, he often "hijacked" Sealand from Sweden and Finland. His nephew was only too happy to join his "crazy uncle" (Norway had been dubbed the "mean uncle", much to the amusement of Denmark and Sweden) on his endless quest to have fun. Not only that, but Denmark was _not_ stingy with the kid. If Sealand wanted five ice cream cones, Denmark got him five ice cream cones and then he bought a sixth one, just in case. If Sealand wanted to try some beer, Denmark would give him one (although he poured it into a glass and massively watered it down) and watch, amused, as Sealand declared beer "gross" and asked for apple juice instead. Denmark had drawn the line when Sealand asked if he could play with some of Denmark's old weapons. There was no way he was letting that kid ruin some of those ancient artifacts.

In any case, Denmark had gotten Sealand for the weekend. And, to make things even more fun, he had decided to invite America and Prussia as well. Sealand liked America because she often dumped some of her comics and action figures on him and he liked Prussia because Prussia taught him fun new words that made Mamma blush and made Pappa burst out laughing, something that didn't happen often. Usually right after the laughter, Mamma would whack him on the arm and tell him not to laugh and Pappa would quickly call Prussia to growl at him angrily over the phone.

There had been no set plan in what they were going to do that day, but America had made the decision for the group when she reached into her pockets and pulled out some grenades. Claiming she had forgotten she'd put them there, she had then offered to show Sealand how to go fishing the "fun way", which was fishing without a fishing line or hook. Instead, she explained, they would fish with the grenades.

Any normal, responsible adults would know it was a terrible idea to hand a grenade to a child, but Sealand was not being watched by normal, responsible adults. He was being watched by three supposed adults who the collective maturity level displayed by nine-year-olds with behavioral disorders.

That's how they all ended up on a boat in the Baltic Sea with a pile of hand grenades and a picnic basket filled with Twinkies and Coke.

"Now the trick is that it's all in the wrist," America informed him, demonstrating for Sealand a bit. "Like pitching a baseball."

"Only aim for the big things," Prussia added. "They are more awesome. Things like an octopus or a killer vhale."

"Good advice," America agreed. She then turned to Denmark. "Any input on your part?"

"Actually, I was wondering why we didn't bring a cell phone or anything with GPS." Denmark frowned. "What if we get lost?"

"Pshaw!" America shook her head at him as if Denmark were being ridiculous. " _Me_? Get lost?"

"England once told me you thought you would be able to drive to Europe," Denmark pointed out, causing Prussia to guffaw and Sealand to laugh a bit.

America pouted. "Well, I know I can't do that _now_. Just calm your tits, Mister Magnificent. With America at the helm, we cannot possibly be lost!"

* * *

It took about five minutes for America to realize she didn't know anything about the Baltic Sea. In some sort of state of panic, she announced that they would pull straws to see who the first to be eaten would be once they ran out of Twinkies.

"This is like _Titanic_ meets the Donner Party!" America bemoaned. "My track record for cannibalism is clean _. Clean_! Now what will I brag about at parties?"

Prussia was far too amused to point out that, more likely than not, they were not going to have to resort to cannibalism. Sealand was busy hoping that he wouldn't be eaten. Denmark, meanwhile, decided to calm America down a bit.

"Mia, no one is going to-"

"Peter doesn't have to worry about a thing!" America went on. She pinched Sealand's cheeks and sighed. "He doesn't have enough fat on him to make him a viable meal! He's smaller than a supersized number two value meal at Mickey D's!" She then pouted down at herself. "But _I'm_ the best candidate to be eaten! I'm so fat!"

No one said anything for a few long moments before America gave them all the stink eye. This immediately prompted a loud round of Prussia, Denmark and Sealand all loudly claiming that America was not fat, that Marilyn Monroe had been a size twelve and she was sexy and that real girls had curves. Pacified, America sat back and smiled until she remembered the whole 'lost at sea' thing.

"Can't you just get your home to come this vay?" Prussia asked Sealand.

The boy sighed. "I would, but I can't summon it here. That jerk England won't give me a mobile, so I can't call my boss, and Mamma says I can't have one, either, because I'm a growing boy and Pappa always just tells me to listen to her. "

"Man, I have _so_ fucking been there," America lamented. "Except Artie wouldn't let me wear anything that showed my ankles. I was _not_ the world's most fashionable child."

"Next time we want to do something involving water and fish, I say we just go to Sea World," Denmark said. The sun was starting to get a little too hot for his liking and he was sure he was going to burn to a crisp.

"Sea World?! I'd _LOVE_ to go to Sea World!" Sealand clapped his hands together excitedly. "We can go see Shamu!"

"Nah, I've been banned from Sea World." America rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "I may have entered one with a fishing pole once or… twice. Or a few more times than that, I can't remember."

"Oh, you vent in vith _just_ a fishing pole? No fucking grenades, then?" Prussia sighed wearily. "I can't believe ve threw all those grenades and didn't even catch a thing!"

"The real crime is that I only got to throw one," Denmark whined.

In the end, the real crime was the fact that they were eventually rescued by a Russian submarine that was being manned by Russia himself. As it turned it, he had been fleeing Belarus and had decided to hide out underwater where he was sure he would be temporarily safe. He had noticed their little boat and, after seeing all the grenades go off, he knew for sure that America _had_ to be there and simply had to come to say hello. Upon discovering that America and her 'silly friends' were lost, Russia was quick to offer them a ride to shore.

"Fine," America mumbled, scooping up the basket of junk food. She climbed into the submarine, pouting the whole time. "But if you tell anyone you saved my ass, I will end you. Got it, Queen Kong?"

"I have got it, _moi dorogoy_."

America made a face. "And no commie language, either. It's fucking creepy."

Prussia followed after her, grumbling about how unawesome the whole ordeal was and how next time they should just do _his_ suggestion and teach Sealand how to form a proper lynch mob.

Denmark helped Sealand into the sub and followed after him, giving Russia a glare from the corner of his eyes as he closed the hatch. The submarine then dipped underwater and headed for land.

Denmark sat back with Prussia and Sealand, observing America and Russia as they spoke. Denmark knew that the two of them certainly didn't have much _good_ history, but they had _a lot_ of history together and he, for one, did not like how familiar the two obviously were with each other. He said as much to Prussia and Sealand.

"Vell, _ja_." Prussia rolled his eyes, uncaring. "Those two slept together back in the day. How unawesome is that, right?"

" _WHAT_?" Denmark whirled around on Prussia, eyes wide and terror gripping his heart. " _They what_?!"

Prussia then launched into an explicit story that had Sealand a bit confused as he hadn't heard several of the words Prussia was throwing in there, like 'fellatio' and 'reverse cowgirl'. Apparently Prussia, and everyone else who happened to be living at Russia's during that time, had had the unpleasant experience of walking in on those two going at it.

"Now that you mention it, I think Mamma said something about that," Sealand said thoughtfully, causing an already-horrified Denmark to give him a look of further horror. "Only she just said once to Pappa that she was happy that America was with Uncle Denmark and not crazy Russia."

The conversation eventually went elsewhere, but Denmark's mind certainly did not. He couldn't stop staring with jealousy and horror at Russia and America as they continued to bicker and exchange friendly chit-chat. He knew America liked bad boys-she was with _him_ , an ex-Viking, after all-but he didn't realize just how bad she liked them, apparently.

Overall, it was worrisome.

Eventually America excused herself, loudly declaring a 'Code Yellow' as she darted off to the bathroom. Denmark decided to extricate himself from Prussia's not-so interesting lecture on sauerkraut and walked up to Russia.

"Look, Assquatch, I don't know what the fuck you think you're doing, but you'd better...um…"

Russia turned to issue Denmark one of his creepy smiles, his terrifying aura oozing out of him and causing Denmark to freak a little. He had forgotten how creepy this shithead could be.

"What was that, comrade? I did not hear you clearly." Russia stepped a bit closer, making sure to loom over the self-proclaimed King of Scandinavia. "You were talking about little Amerika?"

At the mere mention of her name, Denmark blinked, no longer afraid. America always said that heroes were heroes, not because they were totally fearless but because they were brave enough to face their fears. That was why she watched all those scary movies, she had once explained (Denmark didn't point out that she closed her eyes through all of those movies and screamed her head off the entire time).

Like any rational human being with a fully-functioning mental capability that gave them the desire to stay alive, Denmark was completely terrified of Russia. But Denmark was also head-over-heels in love with America and, in a passion-fueled moment of bravery, he found himself poking Russia in the chest harshly, even pushing the taller nation back a bit.

"I _said_ that you need to back the fuck off," Denmark snapped, keeping his voice low like a growl. _You're a Viking, you're not afraid of anything. You eat fuckers like him for breakfast. Without any milk, even!_ "I swear I will take my axe and shove it horizontally up your ass if you try anything."

Russia seemed so shocked by Denmark's threat that he hardly registered the fist that hit him in the face until it was too late. He stumbled back and was promptly knocked out when his head hit the corner of a table.

Luckily for everyone, America could easily operate the submarine and was rather impressed with Denmark for punching Russia, though she had been confused as to why he had done so. Unwilling to let her know that he knew she had slept with him and that he was supremely rage-inducing jealous about it, he had simply said he couldn't stand looking at Russia's commie face any longer, an explanation America had taken at face value as she 'often felt that way as well'.

* * *

"Look what I made you," Sealand said, pointing at a gigantic throne made of Legos. Denmark gaped at the sight that sat smack-dab in the center of his living room. "I noticed you were out of sorts lately and I bet it has something to do with America and how she used to do gross things with Russia."

Denmark eyed the throne and climbed on when Sealand prompted him to do so. As soon as Denmark got comfortable, Sealand quickly crowned him with a red Lego crown.

It had been a few days since the punching incident and Denmark had yet to see Russia. At first, his ego had allowed him to believe that he had scared Russia with his display of manliness. He had certainly impressed America, who had quickly grabbed Denmark, ditching Prussia and Sealand the moment they got to land so that they could have an 'adult celebration', which, of course, did not include clothing.

But Denmark soon realized that Russia was probably waiting to strike just when Denmark was least expecting it. Of course, Denmark was unable to relax or have any fun with his nephew as a result.

Sealand did not consider himself a wise person, exactly. Awesome? Yes. Fun? Yes. A country? A technical yes because _he_ certainly thought he was a country. A great giver of advice? Not exactly a specialty of his, but he really hated seeing his favorite uncle wallowing in pity.

"Now I'm about to drop a whole load of truth on you," Sealand said, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding to himself. "Yes, America may have liked kissing Russia before, but she likes kissing you now. She likes kissing you over and over again. It's gross."

Denmark snorted. "Don't knock it 'til you try it, kid."

Sealand rolled his eyes but continued. "Yes, she likes 'bad' types. It makes sense, since that jerk England raised her and she grew up thinking all men are ruffian pirate-types like him. And Russia is definitely a ruffian crazy-type. But she picked _you_ , the ruffian Viking-type."

Denmark's eyes were wide. "I, the Lego King, officially appoint you as my royal wise advisor. Now tell me what to do, wise one!"

"I say you let everyone who's been panting after America know that she is _yours_ to pillage." Sealand nodded firmly. "Tell them all they can stick it up their bloody arseholes! Show them you're the baddest of the bad!"

Denmark sat there with wide eyes. After adjusting his Lego crown and straightening on his Lego throne, he grinned, extending a hand.

"Hand me my axe, advisor!"

Sealand handed him an axe made of Legos, knowing full well that Uncle Denmark would freak out if he touched his axe.

"I, Denmark, the Lego King, declare that I will prove that I am the the most badass of all the badasses!" He smirked as Sealand clapped with approval.

There was a sudden knock on the door, followed by the sound of the doorbell being pressed over and over again. Denmark sighed and got off his throne begrudgingly, although he decided to keep his crown on. Opening the door, he made a face of total disgust when he saw who it was.

"Yeah? What the fuck do you want, you crocodile humper?"

Australia glared at Denmark. After all, without America around, he had no reason to hide his distaste.

"I'm pretty fucking eager to get out of this bloody bass-ackwards country myself," Australia snapped. "I was actually looking for America, although I assume she's not here. Unless she's the one playing Lego with you?"

"America and I don't play with Legos," Denmark informed him snidely. "We prefer games that include no clothing."

Australia just stared at him flatly.

"I'm talking about sex," Denmark added, just to make sure Australia got the message.

He apparently did. "Fuck you."

Just as Australia turned to leave, Denmark got a great idea. He quickly knocked Australia out with his trusty Lego axe (which shattered upon contact, but whatever, it worked) and dragged him inside.

"You know how to tie knots, right?" Denmark asked, eyeing his nephew. Sealand nodded, unfazed by the new turn in events. "Perfect."

* * *

Russia had come home to a large package sitting on his doorstep. He was quite curious, considering he had not ordered anything lately. Seeing that the return address was from Copenhagen, Denmark; he gave pause and eventually dragged the heavy thing in, wondering if Denmark had sent him a severed horse head as a warning, like in that mafia movie his sweet America was always going on and on about.

Upon opening the package, he was surprised and delighted to find an unconscious Australia, bound and gagged and wearing a skimpy maid uniform.

"My, my," Russia said as Australia woke up to discover that his life was now a waking nightmare. "How fun! Perhaps I see why my little America likes this stupid Denmark so much."

For Australia, it was a terrible week. For Russia, it was an amazing week. And for Denmark, he decided to spend the week in New York City to indulge in some America time and some immense self-satisfaction, which meant it was awesome.

Sealand, meanwhile, had gone home and told his parents that America taught him how to fish with a hand grenade, that Prussia taught him the word 'fellatio' and that Uncle Denmark and him had knocked Australia out, bound him and shipped him off to Russia. His good mood was ruined when Sweden announced that it would be a long time before Uncle Denmark would be babysitting him again.


	29. Who You Gonna Call?

The deals were made in various back alleys or, really, anywhere where people wouldn't see. It was sort of like dealing with the black market or underhanded politics.

The effectiveness of the program had been proven after Russia had decided to humor the three of them by hiring them to "take care" of Belarus for him. The result had been Belarus tied to a rocket and launched to the moon. That had given Russia nearly a whole week of peace before his little sister managed to somehow get back to Earth to continue alternating between scaring the ever-living shit out of her big brother and worshipping at the altar dedicated to America she had fashioned in her shoe closet at home.

The success of Russia's request had sparked a whole volley of new ones. And suddenly, the Awesome Trio's "stupid, bonkers idea" wasn't so stupid and bonkers anymore. Suddenly, they were very, very busy.

* * *

France was sitting in his home in Paris, smiling at the lovely sunset as he sipped his wine and thoroughly basked in the knowledge that, despite his natural inclination to scream _I SURRENDER_ when a situation looked even mildly worrisome, he was French and therefore superior to everyone in every way.

"Honononon~" he chuckled to himself, taking a delicate sip of his wine. "I only surrender because I am a lover, not a fighter. Why fight when you can seduce? _Oui_ , I am a warrior of _l'amour_!"

He was abruptly cut off from his self-assurance by a crashing noise coming from somewhere in his home. France frowned and stood up, unsure if he should just surrender there or if he should at least attempt to see if it was just a mouse or something.

Tentatively, France began to inch throughout his home. After a few minutes of sifting around, he found nothing out of place or out of the ordinary. He sighed and began to attempt to return to his wine and his sunset and his inexcusably large ego when there was a knock at the door.

"Now who could zat be at such a late hour?" France wondered, heading for the front door. He opened it and immediately beamed, eager and lecherous, as usual. "Ah! My lovely _Amélie_! Tell me, what brings your lovely self and your lovely heaving breasts to my lovely home?"

America smiled at him and then began to fish around in her pockets before she yanked out a paper with the word CONTRACT written across the top.

"We recently made a contract with England about our-"

"We? Who is 'we', _mon petit ange_?"

"Me, Prussia and Denmark," America clarified, waving a hand carelessly. "Anyway, we made a contract with England about-"

"England? What about him? What are you talking about?"

America began to look annoyed. "Stop interrupting me! God! He decided to use our community disservice program and we made a contract with him to 'take care of the France problem'."

"What?" France immediately jerked back, realizing just what America had been getting at. " _Non_! What is he paying you?! I will double it! I will-"

France was suddenly jumped from behind by Prussia, who managed to toss him into a potato sack being carried by Denmark. Denmark slung France over the shoulder and they left his big, fancy house.

* * *

"Vhere is France?" Germany grumbled, glaring at France's empty seat as if he could force the nation through willpower to simply appear out of thin air. "Ve have to get this meeting started."

"I hope he's okay, ve~," Italy said to Romana. Romana just scoffed, clearly uncaring of what had happened to France as she was too busy glaring daggers at Germany. Germany, who was already pissed about France not showing up, was all too eager to throw nasty looks right back at her.

"I think I saw him a while ago," Denmark suddenly offered up helpfully. He stood and motioned for everyone to calm down despite the fact that no one was all too riled up about France's absence. The last time France had been absent he had been found hiding in Austria's piano dressed up as a kitten with a camera at the ready. "I'll go get him."

Denmark then left the room and America eagerly launched into a story about how one time there was this McDonald's that didn't salt her fries enough, so she demanded new fries and they had salted those ones _too much_. Just as she was coming to the thrilling conclusion of her story (it had a happy ending-she got perfectly salted fries _for free_ ), Denmark came back in, dragging France with him.

England, who had been quietly sipping tea, spit out the sip he had just taken and burst into laughter at the sight of France. The usually stylish and perfectly groomed nation looked like he had been wrapped up in dirt-covered tarp and then dumped into a locker filled with dead fish and dirty gym socks. There were bits of garbage stuck in his hair and his clothing was rumpled and disgusting looking.

"Good show!" England said, pounding his fist on the table as he roared with laughter. "Dear God, you three _are_ good for something!"

America beamed at the praise while Prussia just snorted and Denmark rolled his eyes, although both of them were smirking.

"Wait." Italy frowned, looking confused. "What happened to big brother France?"

"It is terrible!" France wailed. "They jumped me when I was more than willing to surrender without a fight, even!"

Italy nodded. "Oh, yes, that's always best when you are attacked. I usually just curl up on the ground and beg for mercy, or give my attackers whatever they want!"

" _Italy_!" Germany snapped, causing her to jump. "I thought ve vent through this. You never, _ever_ surrender, no matter-"

"We threw him in a dumpster in Paris, after he dunked him into some of the sewers there," America interrupted. "And then we locked him in said dumspter for… I dunno, two days?"

"You didn't even leave me with any food!" France wailed. England snickered.

"There was probably food in the dumpster," Denmark pointed out.

France balked. "It was all trash! You can't expect me to eat such filth! I'd rather eat England's mush!"

"England signed a contract with us," America continued, shooting France a _stop being such a pussy_ look. "He wanted us to get revenge on France because France had lured England to his house by promising that he had found… what was it?"

England stopped laughing and turned a bit red in the face. "He said, uh… he said he had found a, uh… _thing_ that interested me."

"What thing, ve~?"

England blushed further, meaning he wasn't going to reply, so France did for him a bit too eagerly. "I told him I had found a baby dragon egg and he had to come before it hatched."

"And when I arrived that pervert tried to force me into some fucked up _Alice in Wonderland_ costume!"

"An erotic costume! I was going to be zee Cheshire Cat and he was going to be Alice, and we were going to engage in sweet lovemaking!" France placed a hand over his heart and sighed. "But, woe to me, my advances were unwelcome!"

"Bloody right they were!" England snapped back. "But now that I see you in such a state I feel much better. I'm incredibly proud of you, Amelia."

America turned bright red and let out a happy squeal, given that she didn't receive such praise from England very often.

"Hey! Ve awesomely helped, too!" Prussia pouted, not liking the lack of recognition. He was cheered up when Hungary patted his arm and gave him a thumbs up and a wink.

While France began to sob about his horrendous state and England quickly began to take pictures of him on his phone, Italy was tapping her chin, distracted as Germany and Romana began to bicker. Spain, who sat on Romana's other side, looked as weary with the fighting as Italy felt.

Italy turned to Denmark, who stood nearby, and tugged on his sleeve. Denmark blinked and glanced down at her, offering a friendly smile.

"Ve~, do you three charge for your services?"

Denmark laughed. "Nope! I mean, not really. We just have to think the job is interesting enough, you know? When we do the dark deed requested of us, it's sort of like a reward itself. Who hasn't wanted to send Belarus off on a rocket to the moon? And who hasn't wanted to shove France into a dumpster for a few days just to make him cry, am I right?"

Italy glanced over at Germany and Romana, who were now standing up in each other's faces. Spain was trying to act as a mediator but he was failing. Tugging on her hair, Italy looked back at Denmark and sighed.

"I have a job you three might be interested in, ve~."

* * *

Spain and Italy had begun to think they had made a huge, terrible, awful mistake. America was giggling like a crazy person and Prussia was smiling like he was having fun and Denmark was humming to himself happily, cheerfully unaware that the other two in the room with them were worried that they had just handed their loved ones over to a trio of deranged psychopaths.

Romana and Germany were beginning to come to. America had brought them all into some bunker in Arizona she had made back during the Cold War, just in case. Germany and Romana had been unconscious, thanks to some very effective and possibly (probably) illegal sleeping pills Prussia had given them earlier. America had tied them both down into chairs and the entire room was black save for a spotlight that shined on the two captives. Italy and Spain sat off to the side hugging each other in fear. The three lunatics sat nearby, blissfully unaware of how terrifying they were.

Once Romana and Germany came to, they immediately began shouting and cussing, demanding to know where they were. America was only too eager to reply.

"Shall we play a game?" she purred, keeping out of the light. "Someone may die…"

Romana gasped and immediately burst into tears, begging to be spared, screaming, " _For all that is fucking holy, take the goddamn potato bastard instead_!"

"BE QUIET!" Germany roared, more concerned with Romana's pitiful sobbing than possibly dying.

"I was just kidding about the dying part, jeez." America huffed and stepped into the light. "Haven't any of you ever seen _WarGames_? Nevermind. Oh, hiiiii, Germany! Long time no chill! We should make plans!"

Germany flinched and looked away, suddenly terrified. He was at the mercy of _America_ , and if he survived this ordeal, she wanted to hang out and probably put his life at further risk. God help him.

"America," Denmark mock-whispered. "Remember why we brought them here?"

"Oh, yeah!" America motioned for Prussia and Denmark to step into the light. They wore eerie black robes and each of them held a covered silver platter.

"Bruder," Germany growled as Prussia stepped up to him. The albino was trying his best not to snicker. "Vhat is going on?"

"Your actions have greatly upset those that love you," America said sagely, causing both Germany and Romana to become quiet. "We have been contracted to rectify the tense relations between you two. In order to understand the person you hate, you must put yourself in their shoes."

"Is that what you did with the vodka bastard?" Romana snapped, already annoyed with America's self-righteous speech. "Is that _really_ how the Cold War ended?"

America turned bright red and was unwilling to go into detail about _how_ the Cold War ended. Prussia snickered some more as Denmark fumed silently, both men knowing full well just _how_ the Cold War had ended.

"Irrelevant!" America said, shooting Romana a warning look. "Anyway, as punishment for emotionally straining your loved ones-"

"That tomato bastard put you up to this, didn't he?!" Romana screeched, struggling against her binds, trying to find a weak spot. "I'm going to run him through with a fucking sword once I get out of-"

"Don't even try it!" America threw back her head and laughed. "I was taught how to tie knots by England himself! You don't have a prayer!"

" _Fuck_!" Romana shouted. She stopped struggling and eyed Denmark, unamused. "What the fuck do you three asswipes _want_ , anyway?"

"A shrubbery!" America answered automatically. Germany groaned as she burst into laughter. Denmark quickly got her back on track before she spent the next hour reciting every single _Monty Python_ line she knew. "Sorry, sorry. Gentlemen, show them!"

Prussia and Denmark lifted the covers off their silver trays with flourish and revealed a tomato on Prussia's tray and a potato on Denmark's.

"Germany, you must eat tomatoes and Romana must eat potatoes. Only then will we let you free."

"Never!" Romana screeched. She then tried to get out of her binds with more vigor. "I'll eat my own fucking feet before I take a bite of a goddamn motherfucking potato!"

"Jeez, it's just a potato," America mumbled. She motioned towards Germany. "See? He's eating just fine."

Sure enough, Germany was absolutely chowing down on his tomato, but not because he was eager to cooperate. Mostly because he was eager to get away from America as fast as possible.

"That's because he's a fucking… he's a fucking _fucker_!" Romana kept turning her mouth away from the potato she was being offered. "No, no, no, _no_ , fuck this! Fuck this in every hole it has!"

Italy and Spain watched the scene quietly, both of them minorly upset to see their loved ones so upset, but they really, really wanted the fighting to stop. As in, they _desperately_ wanted the fighting to stop. Spain hardly got any sleep thanks to Romana's constant bitching about Germany and Italy couldn't even take Germany out to dates in Rome for fear of running into her sister and causing a huge scene.

But they both knew they had made a terrible mistake the moment America turned all the lights on in the bunker and revealed crates and crates of tomatoes and potatoes.

"Why do you have so many?" Germany asked carefully. He had finished his tomato and was eagerly waiting to be let out. Meanwhile, Romana was still refusing a single bite of potato on the basis that she only ate 'gourmet' food and a single potato could possibly kill her, or worse, cause her to start speaking German or something.

"Because we really need to hammer this lesson into your stubborn brains," America explained. "You two are going to eat every single one of these."

Germany wasn't one for crying _ever_. But after hearing that, he wanted to cry like a little bitch.

Romana _was_ one for crying, and she was _definitely_ one for swearing. She began to cry and swear enough for both of them.

Just as Spain and Italy were about to intervene out of fear for Germany and Romana's physical and mental wellbeing, America produced a knife and smirked.

" _Or_ you two could hug and apologize for being assholes."

Even Romana agreed to that one. Italy and Spain watched in amazement as the two hugged awkwardly. They then grabbed Germany and Romana and fled before they were forced into anymore emotionally-scarring schemes.

* * *

"I've got to admit, you're not our usual client," Denmark said thoughtfully, staring down at their latest customer. "But you've got a compelling case. Believe me, I've been there."

Gilbird gave a sad little tweet and stared longingly at America's boobs.

"So you caught Iceland's puffin trying to make the moves on America?" Prussia asked. Since America was not a neutral party in this matter, she had to act as a witness to Mr. Puffin's flirations. "Did he manage to snuggle in her boobs?"

Gilbird chirped a few times and hopped around, fluttering his wings for emphasis.

"I see. That's important." Prussia leaned over to Denmark with a serious expression on his face. "Write that down."

Denmark gave a confirming grunt and continued his doodle of America in Viking gear.

"It wasn't just Mr. Puffin," America added as Gilbird began to sulk. "Pierre, France's dove? I caught him in my panty drawer the other day."

"That's fucked up," Prussia commented. Denmark made a noise of agreement. "Thankfully, I think I have a solution."

The next day, Iceland was furiously knocking on Denmark's door. He was absolutely livid after waking up to discover that Mr. Puffin had been shaved. France had found Pierre in a similar state but had used it to his advantage and managed to pick up ladies by constantly "saving" poor, deathly Pierre while conveniently in their line of vision.

* * *

"Wait, hold the phone." America stopped shovelling dirt on the coffin six feet below them. "Isn't Bulgaria in South America?"

They had gotten a pretty simple job from Romania earlier that week-scare the ever-living shit out of Bulgaria since his neighbor had thought it would be funny to paint all of Bucharest red. However, Denmark and Prussia had made the mistake of letting America give directions and had found themselves in South America, burying Brazil alive. Normally, Prussia and Denmark would have stopped her, but Denmark didn't do anything because America seemed so excited that she found a country that wasn't Canada or Mexico all by herself without any help (even though she had screwed up royally) and Prussia was kind of an asshole, so he didn't say anything, either.

Ecuador was standing nearby, wringing his alpaca hat, while Argentina was pulling at her hair so hard that Denmark was sure she was going to rip it all out.

"Babe, Bulgaria is in Europe," Denmark said helpfully. "Right now we're burying Brazil."

There was muffled yelling coming from the coffin. America stomped on the lid and rolled her eyes.

"Shut up for a second, I'm thinking!" America tapped her chin. "I thought for sure Bulgaria was in South America! Isn't Brazil, like, in Africa or something?"

"That's Botswana!" Ecuador spoke up. "For the love of God, let Brazil out! He has a football game to train for!"

"No shit!" America laughed and began to dig the coffin up. "Who does he play for? The Patriots? The Cowboys? The Packers? The-"

"Not your fucking American football garbage," Prussia snapped. " _Real_ football."

"Soccer," Denmark added helpfully.

"Oh." America immediately looked unimpressed, but she continued to dig Brazil up anyway out of the goodness of her heart.

Once they finally managed to dig him up, Brazil popped out of the coffin looking relieved with a loud cry of, "BRASIL!" Argentina and Ecuador sighed in relief and then promptly threw the Awesome Trio on one of Ecuador's alpacas and sent them off with the general sentiment of _don't come back, ever_.

* * *

Lithuania couldn't have been more miserable if he was at Russia's place again. Poland had hired the trio to shackle Lithuania and him together in an effort to "reignite their spark". All the shackling had really done, however, was make going to the bathroom a wildly uncomfortable, awkward ordeal.

* * *

Turkey screamed his head off as a massive stampede of cats destroyed his home. Greece _would_ have been cackling maniacally if it weren't for the fact that Turkey had also hired the Awesome Trio to overrun Greece's home with dogs, causing all his cats to run off.

* * *

China couldn't have been happier. South Korea had been boarded up in his home where he would never escape Prussia's "Maze of Awesome", which was a makeshift maze that had no end, really, and was made out of some massive shrubbery at America's insistence.

Actually, China _could_ have been happier, except that Japan had hired the Awesome Trio to do a _Sixty Minutes_ style exposé on his mass productions of cheap knock-offs he had stolen from his little brother.

* * *

"I don't get it," America said, crossing her arms over her chest. "So we might have used some extreme tactics-"

China sighed. "You buried the wrong country alive, you almost force-fed two nations to eat inhuman amounts of food they hate, you shaved two birds, you launched Belarus to the moon, you destroyed Turkey's house with cats, you destroyed Greece's house with dogs, you threw my manufacturing into chaos, Lithuania and Poland are _still_ shackled together because you lost the keys-"

"Don't forget about my suffering!" France wailed.

England snorted and stomped on France's foot under the table. "Shut the hell up. Who cares for you?"

As France was prepared to launch into a self-pity tirade, China smacked his gavel on the table.

"This is getting out of hand," China went on. "Everyone has a score to settle with _someone_. We should let everyone figure things out for themselves. I hereby announce that this 'community disservice' shall end forthwith!"

The Awesome Trio pouted while everyone else let out a sigh of relief. After the hearing was over, the three of them sulked their way home.

"Community disservice was the most fun we've had in forever. I say we get back at those assholes," Denmark grumbled. America made a noise of agreement while Prussia sighed.

" _Ja_ , but how the hell are ve going to do that?"

America paused and then smirked. "Oh, I'm sure we'll think of something."

Without even knowing what exactly was going on in America's mind, the other two started chortling at as well. America then yanked out a pair of strange looking keys and continued to laugh.

"Tony's in the Andromeda Galaxy for a family reunion and he left me his ship," she said. "What say we raise some hell and do some disservice of our own?"

"Babe, you're making me hard," Denmark said, smirking.

"This is awesome!" Prussia fist-pumped. "Vhen should ve use it? _How_ should ve use it?!"

America snickered. "Slumber party in Copenhagen for top-secret super-awesome plotting?"

"Is that even a question?!" Prussia raced toward his car, closely followed by the other two.

Most certainly there would be hell to pay.


	30. Close Encounters Of The Awesome Kind

Tony's ship was like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. Prussia and Denmark could do little else but stare up at it with mouths agape as America pulled the strange keys from her pocket and whistled cheerfully as she unlocked the thing. A large door opened, a metallic pathway extended to the ground for them to walk on. America led the way while the other two followed.

America blatantly ignored the large note that was taped to the front window reading _DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH-THIS FUCKING INCLUDES YOU, AMELIA_. After looking around a bit more, other similar notes with the same sentiment could be found on handles, large blinking buttons and chairs, among other things.

Denmark picked one up and frowned. "Why is Tony so against you using the ship?"

America let out a nervous chuckle. "New York City blackout back in 1977? Yeah, that was me joyriding with this baby. I thought it was hella hilarious, but Tony got all huffy and lectured me on how he had to keep things on the down low and shit. Now let's ride this baby!"

"This ship isn't exactly subtle," Prussia suddenly said as America hopped into the driver's seat and began to press buttons, seemingly at random. "How are ve going to keep everyone from noticing?"

America chuckled and spun in her seat, grinning darkly. "Never fear, my awesome partners in crime! I have a solution for that as well!" She then whipped a small silver device from her cleavage and tossed it at Denmark. "Remember when we watched _Men in Black_? Well, that's the same memory-swiping device from the movie."

"Where the hell did you get this?" Denmark asked in awe, turning it over in his hands.

America puffed out her chest proudly. "Lots can happen when you throw a massive temper tantrum in Area 51. Anyway, you handle that thing, just in case. Oh, and always face it forward, alright?"

"Got it."

"Vhy does he get the awesome thing?" Prussia whined. "Vhat do I get to do?"

"Um… pick our victims?" America offered. "What should we do first?"

Prussia stood there thinking for a few moments before an evil grin came over him. "More like vhat shouldn't ve do? Kesesesese~!"

* * *

France was in a state of panic. He had awoken from his restful slumber only to find that the running of bulls was taking place in the gorgeous streets of Paris. He attempted to call Spain to sob about the state of his city and how it was every bit the Spaniard's fault, but Romana answered the phone instead.

"The tomato bastard is fucking busy right now, pervert," Romana snapped when France asked about her boyfriend's whereabouts. "The fucking Seine River is flooding Pamplona and all the fucking bulls are missing. And I'm fucking busy, too, for your information, so fuck off or I'll-"

" _C'est terrible!_ " France cried. He rushed out of his home, sprinted through Paris and, sure enough, found the Seine completely dry. "But how did you know it was the Seine?!"

Romana snorted. "The smell. Now screw off, something's happening in Italy. Get fucked, bastard."

Romana hung up, leaving France to shriek as a stampede of bulls nearly flattened him.

* * *

Germany was doing his morning exercises when his phone began to ring with urgency. Somehow, he could always tell when it was Italy prepared to sob and cry and beg for help. Sure enough, when he picked up the receiver, he got an earful of sobbing and pleading.

"Germany! Germany! Help me! Help me!" Italy wailed. "I don't want to die! HEEEELP MEEEEE-"

Germany held the phone away from his ear and sighed before he attempted to get her to calm down. "Italy, vhat is it? Vhat's wrong now? Did you trip over your shoelaces again?"

"No!" Italy whimpered. "I'm lost in a tomb!"

Well, that _did_ sound moderately panic-worthy for once. Germany rubbed his temples and groaned. "In a tomb?"

"An Egyptian tomb!" Italy began to sob some more. "I tried calling Romana, but she's busy trying to help big brother Spain clean up and look for bulls and Japan said he's busy because there are Easter Island heads all over his place and he's trying to get them back where they belong and I'm scared and it's dark and I think there's a mummy in here that's going to eat me and I don't want to DIIIIIEEEEE-"

"Italy! Get a hold of yourself!" Germany hurriedly began to change and gather up anything he thought necessary for extracting his girlfriend from an ancient pharaoh tomb. "I'll be there! Just stay put."

Italy continued to sob on the phone. "The worst part is the coliseum is gone! And this tomb was there instead! I wouldn't have gone in, but I thought I saw some pasta, but then I realized it was the kind of pasta that comes from a box! I ate it anyway, but it was disgusting!"

"Then vhy did you eat it?"

"I was hungry!"

"Of course you vere," Germany grumbled. "I'm on my vay there. Just stay put, _ja_?"

As Germany hustled out of the house, he spied Prussia attempting to tear a sausage away from Gilbird. Noticing his little brother running about in a panic, Prussia smirked.

"Hey, _Vest_ , did you notice something funny about the Berlin Vall today?"

Germany paused and then frowned at Prussia. "Vhat? Vhat about it?"

Prussia shrugged. "Nothing. Just that it looks more like the Great Vall of China than the Berlin Vall. Could have been the lighting or something, I guess."

Germany rushed out of the house and gaped. Sure enough, the Great Wall of China cut through Berlin and went on as far as the eye could see.

That was an issue he was going to have to handle later. Right now he had to get Italy out of a tomb.

* * *

Denmark went over to Sweden's place only to find it completely destroyed. What was more, Sealand, who now stood a good fifty feet, was sitting near the old ruins of the house. On either side of him was Sweden and Finland, both of them trying to get their son to settle down so they could figure out how to get him back to normal.

"I don't want to get back to normal!" Sealand was saying eagerly. "I'm the biggest country of them all! Just watch them all try to say I'm not a country _now_!"

Denmark let out an impressed whistle, catching the attention of the other three. Sweden got to his feet and walked over, his expression, as always, unamused. Finland remained by Sealand, trying to calm him down so he wouldn't storm over to 'that jerk England's' place to destroy everything.

Sweden got right to the point. " _Bron_."

"Eh?" Denmark blinked and then snapped his fingers. "Right! _Øresundsbron_! It's the San Francisco Bridge now! Just got off the phone with Mia, too. Our bridge is there." Trying to keep the smirk off his face, Denmark let out a low whistle. "Pretty crazy, huh?"

"Mhm."

"Looks like Peter hit his growth spurt," Denmark joked, motioning toward Sealand, who had decided to pick his mother up and pat her head. Finland looked near panic and kept sending furtive glances at Sweden and Denmark. "You must be real proud."

Sweden cast Denmark a look and then huffed before turning and attempting to coax Sealand to put his mother back on the ground safely.

Instead of doing that, Sealand stood up, grabbed Sweden as well, and then hurried off to England to destroy some things. Denmark watched the three of them as they disappeared with a smirk on his face.

* * *

England woke up in a crop field with a massive headache and no clue how he got there. However, he couldn't help but be freaked out when he noticed that he was in the middle of what appeared to be a crop circle.

He was not one for believing in aliens or the like and the one alien he had met, he disliked entirely. At first he assumed Tony had done it just to be an asshole (it wouldn't have been the first time), but when he got the images from a satellite he groaned. This was not Tony's handwork.

Grabbing the phone, he dialed America's number and demanded that she come over immediately.

* * *

" _Me_?! You think _I_ did this?!" America pressed a hand over her heart as if scandalized. "I'll have you know that there are things going on at my home, too! The San Francisco Bridge is gone! I just got a call from D.C. telling me that the Pentagon is now Notre Dame, so I've got to call France to see if-"

"Oh, you're clever, I'll give you that," England said. He was sipping tea as he eyed his former ward shrewdly. "But you made one fatal error. I know perfectly well it was you. And you probably didn't work alone. In fact, I'm willing to bet it was you and those two twats you constantly insist on spending time with."

"Well I never!" America stood up in a huff, ready to make a grand exit when England slapped down some pictures taken via satellite. Peering at them closely, she let out a whoosh of air and cursed under her breath.

The picture was about as incriminating as it could get. The crop circle was very nicely done, except that in large, bold letters in the very center it read "USA BITCHEZ".

"How about we strike a little deal?" England suggested, grabbing the picture before America could attempt to do away with it. "I won't tell anyone and you put everything back the way it should be."

America sighed. "Fine. I don't want everyone on my ass about this, anyways."

As she began to walk out, England called after her. "One moment. I hear tell you set out some bulls to destroy Paris, correct?"

America glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Don't do away with those." England snickered. "Just fix everything else, alright?"

Winking, America gave an affirmative thumbs up. "Will do, Iggy."

Thanks to England's interference (and America's temporary lapse in judgement, considering what she had decided to write in England's crop circle), the world was once more put back together correctly.

Except for France. His home was destroyed by bulls **.**


	31. O, Five Meters, Where Art Thou?

Prussia was going on a date with Hungary the very last day of the world conference. He had hardly believed she had agreed to it, although America had insisted that Hungary would certainly say yes.

He'd been excited for _weeks_. Germany was about ready to throw him to the curb and both America and Denmark had had about enough of him, too, constantly going on and on about how _he_ was going to have an awesome time and how _she_ was going to have an awesome time and how an awesome time was going to be had by all. Thankfully Prussia had stupid, sappy friends like Spain and France who were more than eager to listen to that kind of crap and go so far as to ask for 'details' like a group of gossipy girls.

Despite his annoying behavior, America and Denmark didn't totally want to ditch Prussia until after his date. That was why they invited him along to break into England's house and play with his various dangerous magical potions the day before his big date.

"He keeps them in this kinky sex-dungeon looking place in his basement," America informed them as she knocked on the door of England's home to the beat of Michael's Jackson's 'Beat It'. "He thinks no one knows about it, but he once showed it to me when he got drunk. After I told him that I knew where it was, he put this password lock on it. Turns out, his number code on the lock is just '1-2-3-4', so…"

England opened the door, scowling at having been interrupted or something, and his mood seemed to only plummet further south when he spotted the three hooligans on his doorstep.

"Oh, this is bloody brilliant," England grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just what the hell do you three wa- _unf_!"

Denmark had quickly pressed a chloroform cloth over England's nose and the nation was promptly knocked out. The three of them stepped over his unconscious form and headed for his 'kinky sex-dungeon looking place'.

America was correct - the passcode on his lock was '1-2-3-4' - and then the three of them made their way down to the basement. America was also correct in saying that it looked like a sex-dungeon.

"How many times do you think England and France got freaky down here?" Prussia joked. America made a face and covered her ears up, uneager to talk about her father/brother-figure's sex life, but Denmark smirked and went along with it.

"I bet France likes being shackled." Denmark laughed. "Kinky bastard."

" _France_ shackled? No vay! England gets cuffed, I'd bet."

This bickering match went on for a good two minutes while the trio made their way through the semi-confusing halls toward the potions. America apparently got sick of Prussia and Denmark's debating - which was rapidly becoming a physical altercation - and groaned.

"Take it from someone who knows the answer for a _fact_ ," she interrupted. "I'll put it to you guys this way: the British Empire conquers _all_. So shut up."

Prussia and Denmark were quiet for a while before they began to snigger. Prussia was _so_ going to somehow use this information to make France's life a living hell.

"Here we are!" America skipped into the room cheerfully, looking at all the glowing, blinking potions lined on shelves and piled on tables. There were bookshelves filled with dusty old books and everything was obnoxiously labeled in Latin.

"So, wanna mix these all together and see what happens?" Denmark asked, grabbing a bright yellow bottle off a shelf. He then randomly choose a darker yellow bottle and mixed them together cheerfully. After the concoction exploded, he looked downright flabbergasted and then gingerly put the now-smoking bottles back. "Nevermind. Let's not do that."

"Thank God the blast missed your face," America said, clearly relieved. "It's too handsome to get all singed."

"How about ve drink one?" Prussia suggested, eyeing a few. "Like, if ve find one for good luck or something, so my date can be even more awesome. What do you think?"

America rubbed the back of her neck. "Hell, man, I dunno. I can't read Latin for shit. But I guess… if you drink one, I'll drink one. How about you, Mathias?"

"Count me in on the Bad Decisions Bandwagon," Denmark replied cheerfully.

After much scouring and deliberation, Prussia picked a reddish potion that vaguely reminded Denmark of lingonberry juice. It bubbled when Prussia uncorked it and it didn't smell bad or anything, so the three of them decided it would probably be harmless.

"Vhat's the vorst that could happen, _ja_?" Prussia took a quick sip, followed by America, then Denmark.

The three of them sat there for a few minutes, waiting for the potion to take effect. When nothing happened, the three of them were simultaneously relieved that nothing bad had happened and were upset that nothing awesome had happened.

Denmark and America headed for Copenhagen for the night while Prussia simply went home to Berlin.

_Tomorrow vill be the most awesome days of all awesome days_! Prussia thought to himself as Gilbird nestled himself into Prussia's hair to sleep for the night. _Nothing can ruin such awesomeness_!

* * *

Germany wasn't a big fan of "exciting things". When things were exciting, they were also stressful and chaotic and Germany _hated_ things that were stressful and chaotic. His fondest wish was to spend all his days in a nice cottage with his dogs, and sometimes, if he was feeling extra lovey-dovey, he could picture Italy with him as well, despite her knack for being overly-excited, stress-inducing and chaotic.

So when Germany woke up and nearly ran over some albino woman heading for his bathroom, he had not taken that too well. He hated it when Prussia brought one of his sexual conquests over without at least warning him.

_Vait_ , Germany thought, stopping short as the woman elbowed her way past him, grumbling about her ' _dummkopf bruder_ ', _Prussia kept telling me all about how he vas going to go out vith Hungary today. Vhy vould he bring some other voman home…_? _Unless it didn't vork out_?

Germany watched as the woman scratched herself in a decidedly unwomanly fashion and then slammed the bathroom door shut. A beat or two passed before a record-breaking scream sounded from within and Germany stepped back, wincing, a sense of unease making his gut churn.

"VHERE THE FUCK DID MEIN AWESOME FIVE METERS GO?!"

* * *

Denmark had a lot of reasons for being head-over-heels in love with America, and the awesome sex was just one of them. In fact, he had been so blissed-out from partaking in that delightful activity the night before that he had woken up still thinking about it, although for some reason, he kept thinking about how being so intimate with her was emotionally fulfilling or some crap like that.

_Damn, I'm thinking like a girl_ , he snickered to himself as he sat up and stretched. Turning to look at America, he smiled when all he could see was a mess of blonde hair peeking out from under the covers. He grabbed the blankets and tugged them down, prepared to lean over and kiss her when he stopped short and nearly shit himself.

Because, sleeping peacefully next to him, was some dude in his birthday suit.

_What the fuck_?! Denmark jerked back, jostling the bed as the guy groaned and began to come to. How the hell had some guy made his way into bed with him? Where was America?! Sure, he'd had a few beers before going to sleep, but no way in hell had he been drunk enough last night to sleep with some random dude… no, scratch that, no way in hell had he ever been drunk enough in his _life_ to sleep with some random dude. Not even some random _girl_. Knowing full well he had someone like America on speed dial kind of made temptation a mythical emotion he hadn't experienced since dating her.

The guy sat up and yawned while Denmark quickly moved for his trusty axe, which was resting by his bedside. But when Denmark grabbed it, he realized his hand looked a little small. And then he realized that he kind of _felt_ a little small. He also felt all kinds of emotional and he realized that his chest felt a bit heavier…

Glancing down to check, he gawked at the sight of boobs. Boobs on _him_.

And now the guy in bed with him was looking at him, blinking owlishly before glancing down at himself and letting out a low whistle.

"Fuck, I'm packing!" The guy jumped up and flexed. "I'm a fucking Adonis! This ROCKS!"

Denmark stared at the guy for a few long moments before asking, "America?"

The guy perked up and glanced down at him… _her_. "'Sup?"

Denmark rubbed her temples. "I think I'm going back to bed. It's too early to wrap my head around… all _this_."

America let her go back to sleep before getting up, grabbing some of Denmark's clothes (which were just a bit too big, but whatever) and raced off to flex in a mirror.

* * *

Prussia slammed on Denmark's door, a surge of emotions he was _so_ unprepared for nearly toppling him… no, _her_ , over. On one hand, she had spent the better part of her journey to Copenhagen fondling her new boobs, much to the delight of the gentleman sitting across from her on the train, but on the other hand, she was so _fucking_ screwed. Her awesome date with Hungary was that night, and there was no fucking way she could show up at her house as a goddamn _woman_.

A lot of noise sounded from inside before a guy Prussia had never seen before in her life answered, completely shirtless and wearing a pair of jeans that were a bit too big.

Prussia stared at the guy and the guy stared back. Finally, the guy let out a loud, obnoxious laugh that could only belong to one person.

"Yo, beautiful, come check Gil out!" America threw _his_ head back and laughed. "Gilly's a pretty-pretty princess just like you!"

"I told you to stop calling me 'beautiful'!" a woman's voice called from somewhere in the house. "Now help me put this goddamn bra on!"

America turned away from the door and motioned for Prussia to follow.

"So, looks like the potion really did a number on us this time, huh?" America let out a low whistle. "Not to brag, but I'm hot as all hell."

"Vell, at least _someone_ is having a good time," Prussia snapped as they walked into Denmark's bedroom. Prussia gaped at her.

Denmark was on the ground, shirtless and very much so struggling to put a sparkly red bra on.

"Oh, come on, it's _easy_ ," America chastised, sitting on the floor behind the blonde woman. He easily hooked it in the back and rolled his eyes. "You have no problem getting them _off_."

"Getting them off is different!" Denmark whined. She then eyed Prussia and sighed. "You, too, huh?"

"Come on, guys!" America said cheerfully, hauling himself and Denmark to their feet. "Look on the bright side!"

"Easy for you to say," Prussia replied dryly. "Ve got turned into _girls_. You got turned into a _guy_. You practically von the fucking lottery."

Immediately, America's sunny mood plummeted. "Something wrong with being a _girl_ , Gil?"

If America had been intimidating as a girl, as a guy, he was something out of a nightmare.

Prussia quickly wormed his way out of being glared at for hours on end by Denmark's mentioning that the world meeting was going to be hellish that day.

"The world meeting!" Denmark wailed, covering his face with his hands. "Oh, God, there's no way I'm going. Sve and Norge would have a field day with this. And Finn would just want to talk about feelings…"

"When Germany saw me, he just said, 'I'm not dealing vith this shit' and said he vasn't going to be at the meeting today," Prussia chimed in. "So that's one less person to be gawking at us, at least."

* * *

England and Canada were both very unsure of what to say when some blonde teenage guy plopped down in the seat between them. Typically, that was where America sat, and neither one of them wanted to see her get pissed at this stranger for stealing her seat. After hearing that Germany had decided to skip the meeting, England had known that he would undoubtedly be in charge of keeping everyone in line. He already knew he was going to have a massive headache and watching America throw a temper tantrum wasn't exactly on his list of things he was looking forward to that day. He already knew he was going to get into an argument with her, anyway, given that her and her gorilla-ape-men friends had knocked him out with chloroform and had invaded his home and ruined his potions room. Luckily he had gotten a new lock and a new passcode (the password for getting in was actually 'password', and England had patted himself on the back for about a half hour because he thought he was being rather clever), so he no longer had to worry about America breaking in again.

"Pardon me, sir," England said as politely as he could. "I'm afraid the seat you're in is reserved for someone else."

The guy blinked and looked up at him curiously. "Eh? Whaddaya mean? If you mean 'reserved for me', I guess you're right."

England exchanged baffled looks with Canada over the guy's head before turning back to him. "No, it's reserved for America."

The guy laughed. "Yeah, guess what? I already knew those things."

"Now see here," England said, prepared to verbally bitch slap this guy into place before America physically did it. He stopped when the guy actually looked ready to cry.

"Oh, God, it's the haircut, isn't it?!" The guy began to tug on the ends of his hair as if he were trying to make it grow. "It makes me look like a man! Doesn't it, Mattie?!"

This last part was addressed to Canada, who gaped silently. England, too, had gone white as a sheet. Only one person called Canada 'Mattie' because only one person really remembered his name (or his existence, even if she associated him with being her 'hat' more than anything else).

"Uh… Amelia?" Canada asked slowly. The guy's face lit up.

"Actually, I think 'Alfred' is a bit more fitting for now, huh?" America laughed loudly, attracting everyone's attention. "BTW, Iggy, how long is this gonna last? Because while I _like_ being a dude, I kind of miss my boobs and the joy they bring others."

From the other side of the room, Russia looked crushed as he stared at America. "How disappointing. I preferred _moy dorogoy_ with breasts and child birthing hips. Our children will be rather large and numerous, after all. But I suppose I can work with this, too."

"I do not mind either way," Belarus said from beside him, breathing heavily as she eyed America's new physique.

England ignored the creepy pair and was actually speechless. So _that_ was the potion she had consumed. He hadn't been able to tell, given the mess her and her friends had made, so…

Wait. Her _and_ her friends. Those fools rarely did stupid things alone. He whirled around and looked hard at where Denmark was sitting, appearing smaller. He wore a huge hoodie and seemed to be doing his best to not be seen. This wasn't working, however, as both Sweden and Norway were staring at him with ultra-focus, like they were unsettled at his uncharacteristic silence. Even Finland kept sneaking worried glances at him. The only one who seemed to both not notice or care that something might be wrong was Iceland.

"Denmark," England said, walking over. The figure jumped and hurried to cover itself a bit more. "Take off the hoodie. You've been found out."

When Denmark wouldn't do it, Norway did it gladly. Once they all registered that Denmark was, in fact, a woman and, what's more, was an _attractive_ one with nice… _assets_ , even Sweden looked dumbfounded.

"Yay!" Finland suddenly cried, getting up to loop an arm around Denmark. "Finally! A girl to talk to!"

Sweden looked like he couldn't quite wrap his head around what was going on and returned to what he had been doing previously - silently glaring at the tabletop.

Norway and Iceland, however, were _very_ interested. Norway quickly leaned in close, his expression giving away nothing, but his wandering eye definitely made his intentions clear. Ditto for Iceland.

"So, after this meeting, want to get out of here, Dane?" Norway asked flatly. Iceland just kept staring silently, clutching Mr. Puffin close to his chest. "I think there's a bar downtown I saw that looked pretty nice."

"You're fucking kidding me." Denmark was about to give Norway a swift punch in the face for being a creep when a looming shadow towered over them.

If there was ever a time for terrifying, ominous music to be playing, it was at that moment. America was giving both Norway and Iceland looks that made it clear that he would wipe them off the face of the Earth if they didn't back off _now_.

While all this was going down, Prussia silently chuckled to herself, relieved that attention was diverted away from her and focused on the increasingly violent happenings going on the other side of the room. Just when she was certain she would be getting away with this scott-free, Hungary plopped down on the seat next to her, bouncing a bit eagerly.

"Exciting, huh?" Hungary asked, motioning toward America holding Iceland in a headlock while sitting on top of Norway, ultimately pinning him to the floor. Denmark was shouting out encouragements and taking pictures to upload to Facebook. "But not nearly as exciting as our date tonight!"

Prussia felt her stomach drop and wondered how she could get out of the date without hurting Hungary's feelings. The last thing she wanted to do was make Hungary believe she had no interest in her. Just because Prussia had grown a pair of boobs overnight didn't mean she wasn't still romantically inclined towards her favorite frying-pan nutjob.

That's when Austria had to come and ruin everything by being his stupid fucking self.

"You're being awfully quiet," Austria observed clinically. "Have you been afflicted with whatever it was that America and Denmark have come down with, perhaps?"

Prussia decided to curse Austria out on principle. Standing up, her hood fell off and she stuck a finger in Austria's face, unable to contain her fury. "Fuck off! I vill have you know that becoming a voman is not an _affliction_ , it is an _honor_! A goddamn motherfucking _honor_! And you can't just… you can't just…"

A sudden overwhelming sensation overtook Prussia and she burst into frustrated tears. Hungary quickly threw an arm over her shoulder while everyone else in the vicinity shot Austria dirty looks for making a girl cry, even if that girl _was_ Prussia.

America, having heard the speech, paused in his ass-kicking to whistle loudly and shout, "Here, here!"

While Prussia basked in her tearful minor victory, she suddenly realized that Hungary now knew she was… well, a she.

"I understand if you vant to reschedule," Prussia said sadly, slipping out from under Hungary's arm.

Hungary tipped her head to the side, a confused look on her face. "Why would I want to reschedule? I've been excited about this for a long time!"

Prussia looked startled. "Really? You mean it? You don't mind that I'm a girl?!"

"I've always been more of a yaoi fangirl, but I can give yuri a shot," Hungary said with conviction. Prussia didn't really know what she was talking about, but she decided that whatever it was, it was working to her awesome benefit. "In short, no, I don't mind. You're still _you_. Just a girl version of you." Suddenly, Hungary gasped. "That means we can go shopping together and watch sad movies and cry and stare at Ryan Gosling together!"

Now Hungary looked _really_ excited for their date, and while everything she was suggesting sounded like absolute hell to Prussia, the fact that their date was not cancelled was such a relief that she eagerly agreed to all of those things.

"Of course, we're going to have to get you some nicer clothes than what you're wearing," Hungary was saying as she led Prussia out. "You can borrow some of my things. It'll be like playing dress-up!"

As they were walking out, England cancelled the meeting after America announced he would go 'Super Saiyan' on anyone who tried anything with Denmark again. Japan had begun to panic after hearing him say this and England figured it didn't mean anything good, so the meeting room was quickly cleared, leaving only Denmark and America behind.

"I just realized something," America said, taking Denmark's bag and carrying it for her.

"Yeah?"

"You're _way_ older than me. So that kind of makes you my cougar, huh?"

Denmark snorted and shook her head. "Whatever you say. It's been than being a pervy old dude, I guess."

"Aw, you're not old!" America slung an arm around her shoulders as they made their way out of the building. "But you are kind of a pervert. But I like that about you, so I can't complain."

* * *

England stated that the effects of the potion would wear off within twenty-four hours. In that twenty-four hours, America threatened a handful of guys who hit on his "cougar" at a bar they decided to go to in Los Angeles while Prussia and Hungary went on a massive shopping spree and then held each other and sobbed their way through _The Fault in our Stars_.

When they finally went back to being themselves, Prussia decided to swing by Hungary's place again to show that he was a man again in all his awesome, manly glory.

"Good to have you back, Gilbert," Hungary said, giving him a smile as she continuously fed him and Gilbird sweets. No doubt that soon Prussia would be too fat to fit into his pants if he kept letting her shovel sweets in his face. "Although I will miss the shopping and the discussions about the hardships of wearing a bra."

Prussia snorted. "Believe me, I vill _never_ forget about or stop complaining about the hardships of vearing a bra. And I vouldn't mind vatching more crying movies, but don't be surprised if I don't cry. I'm a man now, and I act like one, too."

Hungary smiled and nodded, happy to go along with his delusions of manliness. Later that week, during their second date, Prussia suggested they watch _Titanic_. Afterwards, Hungary spent a half hour feeding him pastries because he couldn't stop crying.

"I promise, if ve are ever on a sinking goliath ship, I vill let you on the driftvood!" Prussia declared, stuffing another bite of chocolate torte in his mouth.

Hungary blushed. Prussia sure was in touch with his "feminine side" these days. Underneath it all, she supposed he could be quite the gentleman.


	32. Paint Me Like One Of Your French Girls

"I hate this stupid fucking outfit," America grumbled, waddling into the room after Denmark and Prussia. "Why don't you two have to wear this stupid fucking whale bone?"

"Because we want it to be historically accurate, _mon petit chou_!" France purred as he motioned the three of them into the display that had been set up. Italy, meanwhile, was cheerfully setting up their art supplies. "Now, sit, _s'il vous plait_!"

The three of them all stiffly sat down in ornate Victorian-era chairs. France cheerfully handed America a teacup that she glanced at with distaste. Denmark, meanwhile, was attempting to keep France from confiscating his axe, although it was supremely difficult given Denmark's current attire.

The Awesome Trio was _ruing_ the moment they had agreed to this. They had originally been approached by Germany, who had been annoyed at being asked to do so, but Italy was scared of them after watching them torment her boyfriend and then drop a pyramid in her house and caused her to nearly have to confront a mummy.

In any case, Germany had been gruff in asking, "Italy and France vant to know if you'll pose for some of their paintings."

The three of them raised their eyebrows in surprise. They had been interrupted in the middle of a pogo-stick jumping contest, and currently Denmark was winning after successfully jumping over Prussia's Porsche. The contest had not continued for a while, though, because Denmark had insisted that a Porsche was a girl car and so their plans had been derailed as they two argued until America announced that compared to her muscle car, _everyone's_ car was a girly piece of shit, so their debating was a moot point anyway.

Just as Prussia had been prepared to try to out-jump Denmark, Germany had found them and made his request, ignoring the overall mild scene compared to what he had walked in on last week—apparently America had acquired a baby swimming pool and the three of them had been trying to use it to make "super jello", which was apparently normal jello mix on a large scale.

"Why would they want _us_ to pose?" Denmark asked, tapping his chin with his axe and somehow not splitting his face open. He would probably attest that it was because of the strong "bond" he shared with the weapon.

"Besides the fact that ve are so awesome," Prussia pointed out. "And I'm totally eye candy."

Germany groaned, not even bothering to resist an eye roll. "I don't know vhy, they just vant you to."

The request was forgotten, however, in the wake of Prussia beating Denmark's score. His minor victory that he exuberantly celebrated, however, was overshadowed completely by the fact that when America's turn came up, she jumped so far she landed in Prague.

The subject did come up later, though, when France decided to approach them during a World Meeting in Amsterdam. Well, one of them, considering it would be impossible to get a word in edgewise if all three of them were together at once. He decided to ask Prussia, given that he and Prussia actually got along and, what's more, America and Denmark were making out under the meeting table and he was not one to interrupt heated moments of _amour_.

Prussia had not been receptive to the idea until France began to stroke his ego.

"You three have so much _personality_ ," France had gushed. "And you are all easy on zee eyes, _non_? I think you and your friends would be zee, how do you say, most awesome subjects for our painting! Kindly allowed Italy and myself zee honor of immortalizing your awesomeness!"

Prussia couldn't say yes fast enough. At first, America and Denmark had been wildly resistant to the idea since posing for hours and hours while two finicky artists told them to hold still wasn't exactly their idea of an awesome time. France had quickly said they wanted to do a "Roaring Twenties" theme which caused America to gleefully agree, eager to relive her favorite era. Denmark, too, had agreed, eager to see America dressed as a flapper again.

Plans had changed at the last minute, however, when France had a "creative change of heart" only hours before they had scheduled the painting session. He was convinced that they should instead paint the most elegant and beautiful of all historical timeframes—the Victorian era. Italy had been fine with it but the Awesome Trio most certainly was _not_. Denmark had sat there, practically growling like a rabid wolf while everyone dressed him up and put a powdered wigs on him while Prussia had just bitched and complained the whole time.

America had gotten the short end of the stick. It took about ten people to force her into a corset and nearly two hours to do her hair and makeup thanks to her ungodly resistance. By the time she was all finished, it was late afternoon and time was a-wasting. She had promised to write _The Huffington Post_ with a scathing editorial about her mistreatment. She then said she would call the police, the army, her best assassins, the _president_ and would even make an emergency prayer to God asking for all of them to be thoroughly punished for their cruelty before she had been ushered into position on a pink fancy dining chair that was neither practical or comfortable. She was told to delicately hold the teacup and pretend to be delicately listening to something interesting that Denmark was saying to Prussia. Prussia sat in a nearby chair, his cheek resting on his fist and was supposed to glance at Denmark with an air of indifference. Meanwhile, Denmark was supposed to be leaning over, whispering in his ear with a conniving smile on his face.

"Overall, we just want to make sure you exude 'delicacy'," France insisted, fixing her skirts and turning her head so the light would catch her eyes better. "Try not to ruin the image by being yourself, _oui_?"

"If I weren't being suffocated by a whale bone right now I would snap you in half like a fucking toothpick, you pussy douchebag," America snarled.

France blanched a bit and backed off to get Denmark and Prussia all squared away. Both of them didn't look like they enjoyed being in ruffly clothing any more than America enjoyed being in a corset.

"I _thought_ you said we were going to be dressing as jazz club singers," Denmark snarled as France pawed at him while smoothing out his coattails. "America was going to wear a flapper dress. I was going to hold a saxophone. We were all going to be drinking whiskey on the rocks. Why the fuck are we all dressed like mentally disabled birthday cakes?!"

"And vhy the fuck am I vearing an eye patch?" Prussia snapped. "I'm not a fucking a pirate! And vhy the hell am I in shorts?!"

"You are dressed after my favorite manga character," France whined. The statement got America's attention and she turned, smirking.

"So is Denmark supposed to be the butler, then?" America asked.

" _Oui_."

America snickered and clapped her hands together eagerly, a small ray of sunshine in an otherwise horribly bleak situation.

"Thank you so much for agreeing to this!" Italy said, peeking out at them.

"Yeah, yeah, enough yappin', get to painting," America grumbled, already itching to squirm around.

Time seemed to drag on at a slow, tormenting pace. America was clearly antsy and Prussia was struggling not speak. Denmark, meanwhile, was getting a crick in his neck from bending over for too long.

Prussia grew very, very bored. He peeked at America from the corner of his eye and saw her squirming around. Italy and France were busy painting almost voraciously, glancing at them now and again.

_Time to fuck shit up_ , he thought to himself cheerfully. He barely turned his head and let out a loud, " _Psst_!"

America jumped and Denmark raised an eyebrow, trying not to move. America glanced at Prussia.

" _What_?" she hissed.

" _I just think you vould vant to know that there is a spider crawling on you_."

America let out a scream and dropped the teacup, causing it to shatter on the ground. She stood up, flailing her hands around while Denmark did his best to try to calm her down. France was swearing and Italy looked like she didn't know whether or not to calm America down or cry, and when she heard America screaming, "SPIDER! SPIDER!" Italy had fled, shouting for Germany's assistance.

Things were eventually calmed down. America kicked Prussia in the shins before she was handed a new teacup and Italy was found hightailing it for Berlin.

Once Italy was returned and everyone was situated again, painting resumed and Prussia was given explicit instructions to _stay silent_.

Their pose had been changed a bit—a small bench was put in and one of the chairs had been removed. America and Denmark sat on the bench, chatting and drinking tea while Prussia was told to continue to look away from them, bored, while drinking some tea of his own. Italy declared the pose was "perfect" and immediately started anew while France had already zoned out, painting purposefully.

Boredom set in once more. Denmark glanced around without moving his head and his gaze fell on the swell of America's breasts, her dress giving him a prime view of her cleavage.

_Hey_ , he thought, smirking. _I wonder how many times I could get away with groping her until someone notices_?

Trying to hide a dark chuckle, Denmark lowered one of his hands slowly and then attempted to jostle America's skirts around. He could see her frown at him from the corner of her vision and shift a bit, but she didn't move, although she seemed to try to quell a giggle when he squeezed her thigh.

" _Mathias_ ," she whispered at her teacup, peeking at him. " _What are you_ —"

"Do not move!" France snapped, glaring at them. " _Amélie_ , my dear, do be quiet! It is a simple task!"

America pouted and muttered, " _You're lucky I don't get Artie to just flop his country over and make you his little French Villa, you fucking_ — _ah_!"

Denmark grinned as America's cheeks turned red, having successfully navigated up her skirt. Unfortunately, France, who seemed to have some Pervert Radar, immediately figured out what was going on.

"Denmark, get your hand out of America's skirt!" France snapped. "Switch with Prussia! _Now_!"

Denmark was not willing to do so until he was told that the sooner he complied, the sooner they could all go home. Grumbling, he and Prussia changed seats and Denmark sulked, his brilliant idea utterly ruined.

Once America managed to calm down a bit from the unceremonious groping, somehow, the Awesome Trio made it nearly two hours of being on some semi-good behavior. That is, until America decided to pretend to sip her tea.

"Here, here," she said with a fake snooty British accent.

Denmark smirked from where he sat and also took a fake sip of his tea. "Prithee, quite."

"Right, sir!" Prussia added. "Thou make haste!"

"Forsooth!" America added.

"Two fortnights, I say!" Denmark said.

Prussia nodded. "Quite, my good man!"

" _Hey_!" Italy snapped, her face turning red with annoyance. " _Shut. Up_!"

Everyone was stunned into silence and, by some miracle, the rest of the painting session went by without another hitch. France announced day one of the posing to be a success. Of course, upon hearing that they had just endured "day one" was enough to beg the question of how many more days they would be forced to pose for France and Italy's stupid painting.

"I don't know," France said when asked. "When the muses decide, I suppose."

* * *

Two weeks. Two torturous weeks of posing in silence while America wheezed away thanks to the corset that was likely bruising her ribs. Prussia's covered eye was all blurry from disuse and Denmark's neck had a major crick in it that no amount of violent massaging from America could fix.

"Well, show us what you painted," Denmark had said, wincing as America delivered another "karate chop of love" to his neck, attempting to relax the muscles there. "I can't move my head because of you two. It's the least you can do."

"Of course!" France said, giddy. "Why would I ever want to hide my glorious creation?! Here it is, gentlemen! Feast your eyes!"

France showed them his painting, his chest puffing out with pride as the three of them stared, mouths agape.

Apparently, France had decided to forgo painting anything that had to do with their Victorian getup. In fact, he decided not to paint Prussia or Denmark at all. Instead, he had painted America topless à la _Titanic_.

"Did you seriously paint me as one of your French girls?!" America asked, her tone becoming a bit hysterical. "If you wanted to paint a nude of me, why did I have to wear that stupid fucking dress?!"

"You wouldn't have posed for me nude," France replied easily. His eyes suddenly lit up. "Wait. _Would_ you pose for me nude?!"

" _Fuck no_!"

"You wound me!" France dramatically threw himself at the ground, chewing on his fist as a spotlight from somewhere shined down on him. "I am but an artiste, drawn to exquisite beauty! Your callous nature has left me bruised a broken! How will I eat? How will I sleep? I weep with the intensity of a thousand suns!"

"That's real poetic," Denmark grumbled.

"Tell me you painted all of us, Feli," Prussia said. All three of them turned to eye a sheepish Italy.

"Well… um…" Italy slowly turned her canvas around to reveal that she had also decided to forgo Prussia and Denmark. She had also decided to forgo America and all the scenery save for the teacup America had been holding.

"You seriously made me wear a corset just so you could paint a teacup I was holding?" America asked flatly. "I would skin you alive if I could move, but I'm pretty sure one of my ribs is cracked."

"I vote we go get drunk," Denmark said. "After I drop this painting off at my place, anyway."

Denmark had decided to keep the picture of topless America. Like fuck he was letting that thing be seen in public. Plus, his house could use some good art.


	33. We Want YOU To Be Awesome! Apply Inside!

**File** : Top Ten Candidates for Awesome Trio reserve membership

**Note** : All five final nominees personally handpicked by Prussia, Denmark and America. All questions written and contrived by all members of the Awesome Trio. Choose best two of finalists.

* * *

**Finalist One**

**Name:** _Sealand_

-Is this going to be an issue?

_Is that one of the questions?_

-How likely are you to wear socks with your sandals?

_Sometimes I like showing off my socks, so I reckon I would!_

-Name all members of the band KISS.

_Who are they?_

-On a scale of one to ten, with one being so-so, seven being high, and twenty being pure hatred, how interested are you in the subject of wasps?

_Four_

-True or false: Have you ever considered growing a beard just for the sake of shaving it off?

_True_

-Are you, or have you ever been, attracted to Bill Nye the Science Guy?

_Who?_

-If you found a genie bottle and only had one wish, what would you wish for of the following: Infinite wishes; To speak to plants; To meet SpongeBob in real life; Pudding.

_To meet SpongeBob_

-How many Weird Al songs do you know by heart?

_All of them._

-Which color is best? Support your answer.

_Red, white and black. The color of Sealand!_

-Which character from 'The Flintstones' would you like to be?

a) Kim Kardashian

b) Pebbles

c) Conan O'Brien

_d)The Swedish Chef_

Notes:

Prussia— _Right on the cusp of awesomeness! Consider for final awesome interview!_

Denmark— _Cool kid, knows an awful lot about wasps and is good at imitating the Swedish Chef. Consider for final interview!_

America— _Totes adorbs! Wanted to hug him and squeeze him and call him George. Then proceeded to hug him and squeeze him and call him George. Did not appreciate the sentiment, but would consider for final interview anyway._

* * *

**Finalist Two**

**Name:** _Hungary_

-Is this going to be an issue?

_What? No, I just had to sneeze._

-How likely are you to wear socks with your sandals?

_Not even if you had a gun to my head._

-Name all members of the band KISS.

_I think Gene Simmons was part of KISS, wasn't he?_

-On a scale of one to ten, with one being so-so, seven being high, and twenty being pure hatred, how interested are you in the subject of wasps?

_Twelve_

-True or false: Have you ever considered growing a beard just for the sake of shaving it off?

_False?_

-Are you, or have you ever been, attracted to Bill Nye the Science Guy?

_In a weird way, yes._

-If you found a genie bottle and only had one wish, what would you wish for of the following: Infinite wishes; To speak to plants; To meet SpongeBob in real life; Pudding.

_Can I wish for infinite pudding?_

-How many Weird Al songs do you know by heart?

_I'm sorry, who?_

-Which color is best? Support your answer.

_Orange because it's so lovely and happy!_

-Which character from 'The Flintstones' would you like to be?

_a) Kim Kardashian_

b) Pebbles

c) Conan O'Brien

d) The Swedish Chef

Notes:

Prussia— _Hot as all fuck. Would definitely consider for final interview. In fact, we should give her the job now._

Denmark— _Kind of cool in a crazy way, talked about her frying pan for a good half hour and then made out with Gil throughout the majority of the interview. It was gross, but it shut him up for a while. Would recommend for final interview._

America— _Has never seen 'Lost'. Would be easier to remedy if she were a reserve member of the Awesome Trio. Would recommend for final interview._

* * *

**Finalist Three**

**Name:** _Australia_

-Is this going to be an issue?

_I reckon it isn't. Carry on._

-How likely are you to wear socks with your sandals?

_Not likely. I'd get weird tan lines._

-Name all members of the band KISS.

_Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Eric Singer and Tommy Thayer. Their best song is 'Beth', by far._

_SIDENOTE—No one asked about his favorite song because nobody cared. Candidate is a fucking moron. –_ _Denmark_

-On a scale of one to ten, with one being so-so, seven being high, and twenty being pure hatred, how interested are you in the subject of wasps?

_Probably a twenty-seven._

-True or false: Have you ever considered growing a beard just for the sake of shaving it off?

_False_

-Are you, or have you ever been, attracted to Bill Nye the Science Guy?

_How the fuck did you lot know?! I'm joking! No, I find Galileo much more desirable._

-If you found a genie bottle and only had one wish, what would you wish for of the following: Infinite wishes; To speak to plants; To meet SpongeBob in real life; Pudding.

_Infinite wishes._

-How many Weird Al songs do you know by heart?

_Is that even a question? Of course I know all of them!_

-Which color is best? Support your answer.

_Blue, it's the color of Mia's eyes._

_SIDENOTE: Sexual harassment. He's a lawsuit waiting to happen.—Denmark_

-Which character from 'The Flintstones' would you like to be?

a) Kim Kardashian

b) Pebbles

_c) Conan O'Brien_

d) The Swedish Chef

Notes:

Prussia— _Looked like a fucking moron. Was a fucking moron. But he pissed Dane off and it was fucking hilarious. Would recommend for final interview._

Denmark— _I recommend him for the final interview so I can make him feel confident and then destroy his dreams._

America— _Super cool, brought in a snake named Bindy. Would recommend both Australia AND Bindy for final interview._

* * *

**Finalist Four**

**Name** : _Canada_

-Is this going to be an issue?

_Only if Denmark makes it one._

-How likely are you to wear socks with your sandals?

_Only if I'm drunk._

-Name all members of the band KISS.

_No, I hate KISS._

-On a scale of one to ten, with one being so-so, seven being high, and twenty being pure hatred, how interested are you in the subject of wasps?

_Probably a two._

-True or false: Have you ever considered growing a beard just for the sake of shaving it off?

_True_

-Are you, or have you ever been, attracted to Bill Nye the Science Guy?

_Nah._

-If you found a genie bottle and only had one wish, what would you wish for of the following: Infinite wishes; To speak to plants; To meet SpongeBob in real life; Pudding.

_To speak to plants. That way I can become more understanding of nature._

-How many Weird Al songs do you know by heart?

_Only 'Canadian Idiot'. Mia sang it to me every day for a whole year._

-Which color is best? Support your answer.

_Red. It's the color of a maple leaf, roughly. It's also the color the boyfriend of your little sister will become if you cut off his limbs should he ever break her heart. Because of all the blood._

-Which character from 'The Flintstones' would you like to be?

a) Kim Kardashian

_b) Pebbles_

c) Conan O'Brien

d) The Swedish Chef

Notes:

Prussia— _Pretty cool dude, I remember when he beat the shit out of that creep Russia in hockey. Would recommend for final interview._

Denmark— _Fucking terrifying. Would recommend for final interview out of fear._

America— _He's related to awesomeness, so he must have awesomeness somewhere in his twerpy buttface self. Would recommend for final interview._

* * *

**Finalist Five**

**Name** : _Japan_

-Is this going to be an issue?

_My sincerest apologies, but I do not know what you are referring to._

-How likely are you to wear socks with your sandals?

_Amelia-chan said she would cut off my feet if I ever did so, so I assume she finds this offensive. I would never wish to offend anyone._

-Name all members of the band KISS.

_I based an evil spirit from one of my horror movies on Gene Simmons… with the utmost honor and respect, of course._

-On a scale of one to ten, with one being so-so, seven being high, and twenty being pure hatred, how interested are you in the subject of wasps?

_I do not know. This question is giving me indigestion due to stress, as I am unsure how to answer._

-True or false: Have you ever considered growing a beard just for the sake of shaving it off?

_I am confused by the question, therefore I will not answer... with the utmost respect._

-Are you, or have you ever been, attracted to Bill Nye the Science Guy?

_No._

-If you found a genie bottle and only had one wish, what would you wish for of the following: Infinite wishes; To speak to plants; To meet SpongeBob in real life; Pudding.

_Infinite wishes._

-How many Weird Al songs do you know by heart?

_Amelia-chan has made me listen to every Weird Al album created many times. She even played his music while I slept. I now know every single song and I am proud of it._

-Which color is best? Support your answer.

_I personally like red best, but I am afraid I cannot support my answer as this is a personal opinion._

-Which character from 'The Flintstones' would you like to be?

a) Kim Kardashian

b) Pebbles

c) Conan O'Brien

_d) The Swedish Chef_

Notes:

Prussia— _Cool dude, but real nervous. Kept taking forever to answer questions because he said he didn't want to offend us. Would recommend for final interview anyway because he gave me spoilers for 'Attack on Titan'._

Denmark— _Really short. Makes me feel taller. Would recommend for final interview._

America— _KIIIIIIKUUUUU! Would recommend for final interview always and forever!_

* * *

_From the desk of the Awesome Trio_

_Dear awesome finalists—_

_We want you to know that you are all winners for even making it this far. Except, of course, for all of you who will not be a reserve member of the Awesome Trio. You would, in fact, be a loser._

_Lucky for you guys, we totally forgot about this and then realized we were supposed to choose by today. We were all very drunk last night and currently we are forcing Germany to write this letter because none of us can remember how to use a computer because we are too hungover to deal with this shit right now._

_So we guess this is your lucky day, as we are all too hungover to give two shits about who is a reserve member. You are all reserve members! So bask in the glow of awesomeness!_

_Note: Your awesome, super-important duties include being there to substitute should one of us become ill, have to do business, etc., so be prepared to drop whatever it is you are doing because it is not as important as what we have planned for you._

_Sincerely,_

_Prussia_

_Denmark_

_America_

_P.S. Sorry if there is a little bit of vomit on your letter, Australia. I tried to clean it up as best as I could, but I don't think I got all of it. Hopefully you are blessed enough not to have touched the places where I threw up on your letter, which seems unlikely as I threw up on the whole thing. I sure hope I have nothing contagious. –Denmark_


	34. Because Awesome Sex, That's Why

It was the first time Prussia and Hungary were going to share a hotel room at a world meeting. Prussia wanted to strut around and let everyone know that he and Hungary were _so_ going to get it on that night, but he knew everyone already _knew_ that because they were sharing a hotel room. So no bragging necessary.

But still. That didn't stop him from doing so.

"Ve are going to do it tonight!" Punching a fist in the air, he decided to add a loud, "WOO!" for emphasis. This was, after all, a monumental moment for him. Not that he and Hungary hadn't had sex before—there had been that time a very, very long time ago, after all. They were technically each other's firsts. And when they'd finally started actually dating, Hungary had stated that she wanted to "take things slow". That idea was thrown out the window when she'd broken into his house about two days later, had stated she was in the mood and had her way with him several times that night. And morning. And day. And week. It had gotten so bad that it had driven Germany out of the house for nearly half a month.

It had also been fucking awesome.

" _Ja_ , we know," Denmark said. All three of them were hanging out during lunch at some nice café in Stockholm. America was freaking out the locals by greeting and smiling at everyone she passed on the sidewalk and Prussia was getting a few stares with his loud proclamations about having awesome sex that night.

"You know, Mathias and I have awesome sex all the time," America piped up after glugging her coffee. "We've been having awesome sex all the time for, like, _months_. So, you know… unless you two are swinging naked from the chandeliers, I'm not impressed."

Prussia narrowed his eyes at her. "You're kind of a bitch, you know that?"

"Thank you!"

The rest of lunch went smoothly and they returned to the meeting. Sweden was always an awesome host. Usually everyone was subjected to Austria or France's or, God forbid, Italy's flowery, long, meaningless speeches and toasts, but Sweden was more apt to simply stand up there, stone-faced, and simply inform everyone that there was complimentary coffee and candy and then quietly take his seat. The only downside was that he stood guard outside the meeting room and glared at everyone until they took their shoes off.

The hotel they were set up in was real nice. Hungary had found Prussia after the meeting and the four of them went out drinking before coming back to the hotel and heading off to their respective rooms.

Prussia had not anticipated, however, that America and Denmark's room would be right next to his.

He felt his stomach bottom out as they vanished into their room, the two of them already getting a little too handsy, and he knew perfectly well that tonight would _not_ be a fun night for him and Hungary. Of fucking course they got placed next to the couple that was louder than a porno on full blast whenever they had sex. Gross.

Hungary sensed Prussia's displeasure the moment they stepped into their hotel room. The big indicator, of course, was the fact that he didn't try to jump her the moment the door was closed.

Hungary grew more and more agitated as Prussia changed into his pajamas and slunk into the bed, hiding his head under his pillow. Why wasn't he trying to sex her up? Was she suddenly ugly to him now that she had agreed to date him?

Her paranoia increased to the point where she could feel her fingers twitch for her frying pan.

_No, Lizzie_ , she thought, steeling herself. _Calm down. I'm sure he's just tired. Meetings can be tiring. I'm sure he'll be_ very _awake if you put the moves on him_!

An evil little smile worked its way onto her face and she quickly changed into the sexiest pajamas she had brought—unfortunately she hadn't expected to have to work to seduce her boyfriend, so all she had was some old nightdress. She supposed she could just throw herself at Prussia naked, but she was more refined than that.

_Wait_! _America once told me that guys like it when you wear their clothes_!

Hungary quickly pulled out one of Prussia's old t-shirts and threw it on. Glancing in the mirror, she was unsurprised to find herself completely underwhelmed. What was so attractive about wearing some big old t-shirt?

Well, whatever. Hopefully it worked. America didn't seem to have much trouble getting guys to drool over her, so she must've known what she was doing to _some_ degree.

_Here goes nothing_! Hungary slunk over to the bed where Prussia still lay motionless like a dead fish. She crawled onto the bed and trailed her fingers up his back.

"Giiiiilbert," she trilled, batting her eyelashes as he peeked at her with interest from under his pillow. "What are you hiding for?"

Prussia continued to look a bit despondent, albeit somewhat intrigued, until he spied Hungary in his t-shirt. "Is… that mine?"

"Hm?" Hungary looked down at it and shrugged. "Oh. Yes, well, I just threw on the first thing I saw. I hope you don't mind."

Prussia sat up and Hungary relaxed when she noticed that there was a perverted glint in his eye as he began to move toward her, whatever troubles he'd had previously seemingly forgotten. Hungary eagerly kissed Prussia the moment he wrapped his arms around her waist tightly and pressed herself against him, grabbing the sides of his face as if to try to keep him there, like she thought he was planning to move away. He clearly had no such intentions and made that very clear when he positioned her in his lap so that she was straddling him. Apparently still a bit unsatisfied with that, Prussia quickly pushed her onto the mattress and moved in between her legs, resuming his kissing as his hands began to wander south. The move made Hungary's body flush with a suddenly shock of warmth.

Prussia began to kiss along her jaw and nibbled on her earlobe, grinning when she let out a shaky, pleased sigh. His hands traced her hips and thighs almost teasingly. He looked so pleased with himself and the current situation he found himself in that his expression was downright diabolically lustful.

"Oh, _Gilbert_!" Hungary bit her bottom lip to keep from being too loud, mindful of the fact that they were in a hotel and anyone could hear them, as he resumed kissing her, moving down her neck to suckle at the skin where her shoulder and neck met.

Prussia meant to say something awesome at that moment. Hell, maybe he was about to say something _really_ awesome. But now the world will never know because America and Denmark just had to ruin _everything forever_.

There was a loud bang that sounded from the room Denmark and America were in. Prussia promptly stopped in his crusade to invade Hungary's nether regions and flung himself back on the mattress, groaning as he covered his head with his pillow again.

" _What the hell_?" Hungary was all sorts of hot and bothered now. Pure fury, unbridled and shameless, made her see red. She grabbed Prussia by the collar of his shirt and yanked him upright, shaking him with the white hot rage of a thousand suns. " _You think you can just stop right when things were getting good_?!"

" _Vait_!" Prussia struggled to keep from being choked to death. " _Nein_! I vant to, I do! But… it's just…"

"Just what?" Hungary looked about ready to murder him so viciously that it would make Jack the Ripper pee his pants. "What, do you not find me pretty anymore?!"

" _Nein_! It's Dane and Mia! It's their fault!"

Hungary huffed in disbelief but decided to let him say his final words. "What? Why?"

"They're so fucking _loud_ vhen they have sex!" Prussia explained hurriedly. "It's emotionally scarring. I don't think I can get my awesome five meters up vhen I hear Dane grunting like a fucking, I don't know, reindeer or something. It's horrible! They're so fucking horrible!"

As if to prove his point, America could suddenly be heard letting out a lewd cry, followed by Denmark grunting.

Hungary had calmed somewhat. Clearly _she_ wasn't the problem here. "Well, I mean… can't you just, you know, try to ignore them?"

The wall suddenly shook, causing Hungary to jump and Prussia to groan, while America simultaneously let out a lusty wail.

"For the love of God!" Hungary glared at the wall furiously. "Do they have no consideration for others?"

Of course, Hungary was completely ignoring the fact that she was dating the King of Jackasses who would probably be doing the exact same thing that Denmark and America were doing if he wasn't so horrified by their very loud activities.

"Well? You're not going to try to stop them?" Hungary asked, giving Prussia a pointed look.

"Vhat? Vhat do you vant _me_ to do?!"

Hungary threw her hands up in the air hopelessly. "Apparently _nothing_! Fine! Let's just go to bed!"

With that, she grabbed the covers and flung herself back onto the mattress, turning so her back faced Prussia.

A few seconds passed and America and Denmark had yet to cease in their escapades. It probably wouldn't have been half so bad if it were just some quiet moaning and a creaking bed or something, but America was shouting and swearing at the top of her lungs and Denmark just sounded… no. He just sounded like a lot of no.

Finally, Hungary, fed up and still angry at the lack of sex she was getting, sat up and yanked Prussia upright.

"You get them to shut up _now_!"

Prussia sighed and then slammed his fist into the wall. America and Denmark actually fell silent, to his amazement, and he yelled, " _Hey_! _Shut the fuck up, losers_! _Some of us are trying to fucking sleep_!"

Hungary smiled, pleased, as silence overtook the hotel. She moved closer to Prussia, hoping he would finally be raring to go. He was grinning hugely, pleased with himself and a bit surprised that it had been _that_ easy getting the two of those horndogs to quiet down.

There was some soft whispering coming from the other side of the wall before someone slammed their fist against it from the other side. Denmark's voice came through, loud and clear, as he chortled and shouted, " _Hey, fuckwad_! _Guess who's having awesome sex right now_? _Me and not you_! _Hahahahaha_!"

And then the outrageously loud sex started up once more and, somehow, it seemed impossibly even louder.

"That's it!" Hungary snarled. She unceremoniously shoved Prussia onto his back and straddled him, yanking off the shirt she had taken from him and tossed it aside. "They are going to have nightmares when I'm through with you!"

Prussia's mouth fell open into a perfect "o" as Hungary began to quickly divest his clothes as well. Was this an awesome yet unawesome nightmare-dream? A nightmare that was becoming a dream? "Um… vhat?"

Hungary gave an evil little laugh, feeling up Prussia's muscles as she issued the wall a nasty look. "Oh, we're going to show them what _real_ awesome sex is. I don't care if you can't get it up, I'll take care of stuff."

As it turned out, Prussia getting it up was not a problem, his best friends having loud sex in the next room be damned.

* * *

The next morning was super awkward. Not just for America and Denmark, who were both shooting Hungary and Prussia uncomfortable looks before whispering to each other as if scandalized, but for everyone.

"That was _disgusting_ ," America murmured, glaring angrily at her lap while Denmark rubbed her back. "Oh, God! Do they have _no_ self-awareness?"

That was probably the most ironic thing she'd ever said in her life, but Denmark let it slide, mostly because he was also horrified with what had happened in the hotel room right next to them last night.

"Right? What was with all the yodeling? Was that what that noise was?"

"It sounded like they skinned and drowned a live animal in there."

" _Six_ live animals."

"I want to run off to a nunnery just so I'll never hear that stuff again," America whined. "But I'm not Catholic, so I guess I'll just… take a shower over and over again. And maybe rip my ears out and burn them and scatter the ashes in the ocean."

Italy and Germany had been sitting nearby. Turning, Italy grabbed Germany's sleeve and gave it a tug.

"Ve~, that was gross last night, huh?" Italy pouted. "I got too scared to even move! I thought they were murdering someone up there."

Germany grimaced. "Unfortunately I'm used to it."

Italy looked horrified and grabbed her rosary beads, promising Germany that she was going to pray for him.

Both Hungary and Prussia were sitting elsewhere, the two of them infinitely pleased with themselves.

"I had fun christening our room last night," Hungary said, batting her eyelashes while Prussia puffed his chest out, pleased with himself. He had strutted into the conference room like a man. A man who had had amazing sex the night before. "Want to do it again tonight?"

Prussia could have done backflips he was so excited. America and Denmark promptly switched to a different hotel. Hell, _everyone_ did, even France, who had stated that the two of them were grossing him out.

Not that they really cared. Because all the more awesome sex, that's why.


	35. Lord Have Mercy, They're Reproducing!

The evening had been normal enough at first. America had decided to spend the day at his place and the two of them had decided to have a _Star Wars_ marathon. Naturally, watching three _Star Wars_ movies (America refused to acknowledge Episodes 1 through 3, saying they were a "load of horse shit") was a very long, drawn-out process, but add in the fact that America kept pausing the movie to throw in some facts or go on a big monologue about why this one character in the background nodded to this other background character was because of this conversation they'd had with some general on some planet twenty years earlier and so on and so forth, and suddenly their twelve-hour _Star Wars_ marathon became a weekend-long deal. Denmark was starting to get a bit worn out and his head was throbbing with useless trivia when the phone rang.

"Aw, what?" America whined, quickly pausing the movie. "But Han Solo was just about to kiss Leia! What the hell?!"

"Sorry," Denmark replied, trying to hide his relief for even the slightest reprieve. "I've gotta answer this. It might be my boss."

America grumbled something and then flopped back on the couch, whipping out her cell phone to text someone—probably England because she said he still didn't have a clue how to operate a cell phone properly and often sent her strange texts.

" _Hej_. Denmark speaking."

"'Sup, bro?" Prussia cackled on the other line. "Sorry to interrupt you, I bet you vere busy vith the babe."

"Eh?" Denmark shrugged. "I guess. We were watching _Star Wars_."

America peeked up over the edge of the couch. "Who is it?"

"It's Gil."

"Oh! Put him on speaker!"

Denmark did as instructed and Prussia was now laughing.

"Seriously? I thought you two vere going to be going at it!" He snorted. "Acting like an old couple already?"

America rolled her eyes. "What the hell are you talking about, 'old couple'?"

"Vell, since it's your anniversary, I thought for sure you two vould have been halfvay through vith monkey marathon sex," Prussia said flippantly. "I just called to say 'congratulations on not breaking up' and that kind of shit. Oh, and Lizzie says hi."

Denmark and America had both paled upon realizing that Prussia was right. It _was_ their anniversary and both of them had completely forgotten.

"I vas prepared to leave a message because I thought you two vould be too… erm, _busy_ to answer!" Prussia laughed. "But I guess not. So, you know, happy anniversary, losers! Have fun vith your _Star Vars_! Kesesesese~! Now I have to go and have sex vith my awesome girlfriend because, you know, ve still do that. _Auf Wiedersehen_!"

With that, Prussia hung up and left both America and Denmark sitting there, silent and a bit pouty. Because, fuck yeah, they still had sex. Just because they had learned how to keep it under control (for the most part, anyway) didn't mean they didn't fucking _do it_.

Although the fact that they had both forgotten their one year anniversary was a bit… not good.

"Oh, my God, what are we doing?!" America wailed. "I mean, _Star Wars_ rocks my socks off and all, but… but…" She tugged on her hair and shook her head. "But sex is so much better! All the wasted hours! Get your clothes off. We're having sex right now!"

"On the floor?" Denmark shook his head. "My floors are all wood, Mia, and I have Legos all over the place."

"Then we can start on the damn bed!"

Denmark fist pumped and then followed her upstairs, both of them whipping off clothes as fast as they could as they hurried towards Denmark's badass bedroom. Badass because it had a shitload of old weapons all over the walls and stuff. A few old paintings of him in his Viking gear hung here and there and, as of late, a few pictures of him and America had been added to the décor.

Not that Denmark was really staring at his weapons and artwork when America had nearly stripped herself entirely naked and was throwing herself onto his bed.

Right. Anniversary sex. Go.

Wrestling his own pants off, Denmark hurriedly climbed onto the bed after her, quickly covering her with his body. "By the way, happy anniversary!"

"Right back at ya," America said, winking before she wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed his nose playfully before sighing. "I really love you, you know that, right?"

Denmark's eyes widened. It wasn't the first time she'd said it, but every time he heard that his heart went crazy and he was pretty sure his head was going a little crazy, too. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her hard, smiling as he pulled away and saw that her cheeks were red and her gaze was already getting a bit hazy.

"I love you, too," he said before he kissed his way from her chin to her ear and gave the lobe a small nibble as one of his hands trailed up the curve of her stomach, knowing full well she was ticklish. America let out a few choked giggles she inhaled sharply the moment he grabbed one of her breasts and gave it a little squeeze.

"Mm." America squirmed a bit, her arms dropping from his neck so she could cup the sides of his face and pull his lips back to hers. Denmark was more than happy to oblige as he moved the hand not fondling America's breast down toward her legs. He pushed one of her knees outward and she got the hint and quickly spread her legs enough so that he could get in between them. He teasingly ground his hips against hers, causing her to let out a moan and then a tiny whimper when he pulled away.

Denmark bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making a similar noise, even though he knew it was futile—in no time he would be pretty vocal himself (Prussia often likened the noises he made to that of barn animals, which really pissed the Dane off because Prussia sounded like a cat in a meat grinder when _he_ had sex, so really, who was he to judge?), but he liked to listen to America more than hear himself.

"Ungh…" America's eyelashes fluttered as Denmark pulled back to inspect the situation and decide how to proceed. America liked variety, and it looked like tonight she was handing him the proverbial sexy reigns. Denmark really enjoyed it when America decided to just pin him down and take what she wanted because, damn, when that girl rode, she rode _hard_. But he definitely liked being in charge, too.

After only a beat of contemplation, Denmark grinned and then raised one of America's knees, turning his head to kiss it. America sighed as he trailed his lips up her inner thigh and soon, those sighs became moans and she stared at him, wide-eyed as he sucked at the skin of her hipbone.

"Oh, God," she gasped, moving to card her fingers through his already-wild hair. She squirmed impatiently and pouted, clearly eager for him to get the show on the road. She then let out a gasp when he suddenly bit down, not hard enough to break the skin but just enough to leave a nice mark. " _Fuck_ , Mathias!"

"In a moment," he assured her, knowing full well his voice was shaky. He moved up, lips barely grazing her hot, sweat-salted skin until he was at her neck, giving the sensitive skin between her neck and shoulder a bite to match the one on her hip.

America was starting to get impatient, purposefully moving her hips upward a bit to brush against Denmark's rapidly hardening length. He muttered a curse because the bitch knew he was starting to get to the end of his rope, too. Neither of them were exactly patient people by nature, which meant sex was usually fast and rough, and it looked like tonight was no exception.

Denmark quickly lowered one hand downward, pressing his fingers in between her legs to seek out the rosy nub of her clit. America shouted a quick curse at the sudden contact and Denmark grinned—she was already wet, his fingers quickly slick as he began to rub against her. He kept his motions lighter and small, not wanting her to go falling over the edge of bliss without him.

Clearly, however, America didn't want any of that. She quickly grew frustrated with Denmark's slow little dance and smacked his arm, although not too hard as she clearly didn't have it in her at the moment.

"Dammit, Mathias," she whined. "I swear on the Washington Monument, if you don't _do something_ , I'm gonna… ugn, I'm gonna _freak the fuck out_."

To drive her point home, and clearly to get the show on the road, America reached a hand down and grabbed Denmark's dick, giving it a squeeze before wiping her thumb over the leaking, angry-red head. Denmark very nearly fell down on top of her, the strength in his arms almost giving out from surprise and the flash of heat that had gone through him.

" _Fine_! Fine! Just… shit, Mia, stop, I can't—"

America pumped his dick once for good measure and then did as he asked and pulled away, her expression caught between smug and impatient lust.

Denmark rolled off of her briefly and reached into the side table drawer, looking for a condom. America had driven the idea of ' _don't be silly, cover your willy_ ' into his head to the point where the stupid rhyme would repeat it's mantra in his head a few times before subsiding. When he searched around the drawer, however, his eyes widened in horror.

"Mia. Mia, _shit_ , there's no condoms."

" _What_?!"

America practically threw Denmark across the room and ripped the drawer from the side table, turning it upside down and carding through everything there. She let out a string of furious profanities before turning to Denmark, her expression livid.

"Downstairs. In my purse. Front pocket. I have some. Grab one. _Now_."

Denmark did so, acutely aware of his increasingly uncomfortable boner as he hurried downstairs and found America's purse tossed carelessly in his entryway. He carded through it and groaned when he found a plethora of credit cards, tampons and a deck of Pokémon cards, but no condoms. After turning her purse inside out, he hobbled back up to his room, utterly defeated and prepared for a night of blue balls and America bitching and whining considering it was way too late to make a condom run.

He opened the door and nearly fainted when he saw America laying on the bed, flicking her hair and giving him a _come hither_ look.

"Mathiaaaaaaas," she sing-songed, fluttering her eyelashes. "Finally!"

"Mia, I don't have the—"

"Come here!"

Denmark walked forward and America grabbed him by his arms, pulling him on top of her. He frowned as she began to kiss his chin.

"I couldn't find any—"

America shut him up, pressing her lips against his. Once he felt her mouth open, he almost instinctively opened his own mouth and pressed his tongue inside.

The mood had shifted somewhat momentarily, slower and bit more romantic, but it wasn't long until America's natural impatience sprouted again and she was grinding her hips upward, eager for things to finally progress.

"Ah!" Denmark pulled away from her, sitting back. "Mia! There were no condoms in your purse!"

America stilled and let out an annoyed groan. "Are you fucking serious?"

"I think we used them already. Remember, at that pub at Scotland's place?"

She slapped her forehead. "Fucking… dammit!" America grabbed his forearms and gave Denmark a serious look. "Let's just have sex anyway. Who gives a fuck."

Denmark's mouth practically fell open as he regarded her. "…seriously? What if, you know, you get pregnant or something?"

"What are the chances?" America let out an inelegant snort and shook her head. "No. How about we have sex, it'll be awesome, and then tomorrow we'll buy some condoms and have more sex? You can just, like, pull out, right?"

Denmark bit his bottom lip in thought, weighing his options. Unprotected sex or a serious case of blueballs and a probable black eye if he says no at this point?

Sex ended up winning out. Denmark moved his hands to her knees, keeping her legs spread apart as he leaned down and pressed a kiss against her lips. America hurriedly reached down, once more grabbing his dick and giving it a few pumps, bringing Denmark back to full hardness within moments. He grunted as he positioned himself and then pushed inside, letting out a silent pant of air as he bottomed out.

America, meanwhile, was biting her lip, eyes wide. She had propped herself up on her elbows to watch the whole thing but had ended up flopping back against the mattress, letting out a little cry as soon as he was all the way in.

"Oh, thank _God_ ," she moaned. "M-move, dammit!"

Denmark pulled out of her so that only the tip was still in and then harshly shoved himself back in, causing the bed to creak loudly. That noise, however, was overshadowed by America's lewd wail.

Hooking her knees over his elbows, Denmark sat up a bit more and lifted America's hips. He awkwardly grabbed for one of his pillows and put it underneath her to keep her propped up and then, once she was all situated, he pulled out and slammed back in. Denmark began to set up a good pace, grinning as America's walls fluttered around his length, hot and tight and slick. The whole thing looked downright obscene, the sight of his cock slamming into her over and over again.

Of course, he still had a bit of trepidation having sex without a condom. They'd never done it before like this and the sensation of having no real barrier between them was pretty damn overwhelming. Denmark did his best to concentrate, tried to count in his head, tried to play a mental game of chess, _anything_ that wouldn't make him come right away like some horny teenage virgin because he was pretty sure he would _die_ if he did that. Well, if America didn't kill him first.

Apparently America seemed to realize that he was trying to distract himself because she let out an annoyed huff and moved her hips a bit more aggressively, egging him on. "Come on, do it _right_."

Denmark gave up. Grabbing at her hips so hard he was sure he was going to leave bruises, he pulled out and a slammed back in so hard it forced America back, causing her to let out a cry, tears actually pricking at her eyes. Denmark let out a small growl, hips snapping as he dove into her again and again. He wasn't going to last very long, but he was pretty certain America wasn't going to, either. Not if he had anything to say about it, anyway.

America was beginning to rip up his sheets, her nails digging into the mattress in an attempt to keep herself in one spot. Denmark ended up wrapping his arms around her waist and lifted her up so that she was straddling his lap. Denmark let out a guttural moan; he was buried deeper inside of her now and had much easier access to her neck and breasts. He immediately got to work suctioning his mouth against her sweaty skin as America buried her face into his neck, moving against him as his hips snapped up into her aggressively.

" _Fuck_ ," America managed before she once again fell into wordless babbling, her nails scraping at Denmark's back. He knew it was going to hurt later, but he didn't care at the moment. That was a problem for future Denmark. Right now Denmark thought it was pretty damn awesome.

America's nails dug in a little harder as she clung to him, her howling getting louder as her muscles grew more and more rigid, tightening around him. Denmark muttered a small curse—he was _really_ about to lose it—and moved one of his hands in between them, pressing his thumb against her clit in hopes of getting her over the edge quicker.

It worked. America came so suddenly that she seemed a bit surprised, her eyes rolling into the back of her head and as her whole body went stiff and a choked cry managed to make its way past her lips. After a few moments, she fell limp in his arms like putty and Denmark let out an inner victory cry before he suddenly realized he was about to come and he wasn't wearing a fucking condom.

_Shit_! Denmark hurriedly tried to push America away, but it was too little too late—he came, mostly in her, and managed to pull out only moments before it was over. He let out a groan, hoping she wasn't going to be too pissed, but she seemed too out of it to really notice much.

"S-sorry," he panted, sitting up a bit clumsily. His muscles felt like they were made out of jelly. He surveyed the damage—his sheets were all ripped and there was a new dent in the wall, but overall it looked like they hadn't done too much damage.

America was grinning as she blindly grabbed at the blankets and yanked them up to cover them, tugging Denmark down to snuggle with her. She let out a yawn and then chuckled.

"Damn, it looks like I'm dating a fucking vacuum cleaner," she said, motioning lazily at the many new hickies on her chest and neck.

Denmark laughed. "Well it looks like I'm dating a cat that thinks I'm a scratching post, so I guess we're even." He paused and frowned. "Oh, and, uh, I sort of—"

"Shot a load in me?" America snorted. "Yeah, don't think I didn't notice. But whatever."

"…whatever?"

"Yeah. I mean, most people have to _try_ to get pregnant, right?" America kissed his shoulder and sighed. "And what's the chances of a _nation_ getting pregnant? I bet it's way more unlikely, huh?"

Denmark thought that over. "Yeah, I guess."

The two of them fell asleep and ate their words six weeks later.

* * *

America was acting strange. Not strange as in her normal strangeness, but strange as in… well. Not herself.

For one thing, she had rejected the offer of hamburgers from Prussia when he and Denmark had arrived at her place. Instead of them walking in on her in the middle of some crazy project, she was laying on the couch in some old Wonder Woman pajamas, crying outrageously while she watched a special on the Animal Planet that had just showed a zebra being eaten by some lions.

"Why is the world so _cruel_?!" America had sobbed, trying to explain to the two baffled men just why she was in hysterics. "Why couldn't the lions have eaten something uglier? That zebra probably has a baby and a family! And when the whole herd stops running, can you imagine the zebra's kids being all, 'Hey, where's Mom?' And then they realize she's _dead_?!"

With that, she once more fell apart in tearful theatrics while Denmark and Prussia looked at each other warily.

America had refused to get up, stating that she was really tired and had been tired for the last few days or so. She had begun to worry about whether or not she was coming down with something because, as she explained, she had eaten ninety burgers that morning like she always did and had gotten sick and thrown up.

"Burgers sound awful," she whined. "And I can't even go out to pick up any food I actually want because I'm too tired."

"Or maybe it's because you're fucking lazy," Prussia suggested.

Instead of shooting him an irritated look or threatening him with bodily harm as she normally would, America's eyes welled up with more tears. She sat up, grabbing a pillow to cling onto tightly, and stared at Prussia, wide-eyed.

"Do you think I'm fat?!" she cried. "Because I can't help it! My ankles have gotten all swollen and I keep bloating and eating and I can't stop and I think it's because the whole world is going fucking nuts and everything thinks it's my job to fix it and I can't… I can't maintain a healthy diet under this much strain!"

Prussia began to panic and Denmark was also panicking and was very angry that Prussia made her cry. In the end, as a joint effort to escape from her crying, they offered to go to the store to pick up some things for her since she was too fatigued to do so herself. America perked up instantly and gave them the most bizarre grocery list either of them had ever seen before pointing them in the direction of the nearest Wal-Mart.

"Vhat the hell kind of drugs is she on?" Prussia grumbled as he glanced over the hastily-written list. "Look at this. Spanktopia. Vhat the fuck is Spanktopia?!"

"What the hell list are you looking at?" Denmark asked, grabbing it from Prussia. He eyed it and then rolled his eyes. "Spanakopita. I have no idea what the fuck that shit is. Let's just grab it and get back. I'm kind of worried about her."

" _Ja_ , it's not like her to just start crying like that." Prussia tapped his chin and then let out a laugh. " _Mein Gott_ , she's acting like a pregnant voman!"

The two of them threw their heads back and laughed and laughed and laughed. And then all of a sudden they stopped laughing and a sense of unease fell over them.

Finally, Prussia burst out, "Holy shit, is she fucking pregnant?!"

"No way," Denmark answered automatically. "We play it safe."

"Not even once?" Prussia pressed. "Like, by accident or something?"

Denmark opened his mouth again to tell him that no way were they so irresponsible, but the words died on his lips before he even uttered them because… shit. _Shit_. Oh, fuck. He knew it! He fucking knew it!

"Ew," Prussia replied after Denmark hurriedly told him what had gone down. "Shit, so she _could_ be pregnant."

Denmark sort of stood there, trying to wrap his mind around such a concept. They had only had sex _once_ without protection. Didn't a lot of couples have problems getting pregnant? Like, didn't couples have to consciously _try_ to have a baby? Then again, America was young and had "fruitful plains" or whatever and Denmark was positive he had some Olympic swimmers.

"Sveet! I'll practically be an uncle!" Prussia said cheerfully as he tossed a few more things into the shopping cart. "Ve should probably grab her a few pregnancy tests. I've heard they're not alvays right. Oh, shit, are you okay?"

Denmark had been about ready to hyperventilate. Not because he was upset that he had possibly just knocked up his girlfriend by mistake and didn't want a kid. He was about ready to pass out with joy. After all, he loved America and America loved him. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. What was to be upset about? They were going to have the coolest fucking kid the world had ever seen! Half-viking, half-hero, all awesome.

_Calm down. It could be a false alarm_ , he reminded himself. After calming down, he quickly followed Prussia and grabbed a few pregnancy tests.

"How do you think Canada is going to react?" Prussia chortled. "Or England? Shit, how about… fuck me, how about _everyone_?"

While Prussia cackled and made plans about how he was going to let Gilbird know that America might reproduce, Denmark tried to think of how he was going to breach the subject to America. He doubted the thought had crossed her mind yet and he wondered if just handing her a pregnancy test would work out or if he should broach the subject a bit more carefully given her mental state.

Once they returned to America's house (after having to turn around because she called them when they were on their way back to ask them to grab a few more things), she immediately accosted them at the door and dove for the pickles and peanut butter. Both men watched, equally fascinated and disgusted, as she quickly began to scoop peanut butter from the jar with her pickle and took a large bite.

"Oh, fuck yeeeeees," America moaned, dipping her pickle into the peanut butter again. "Fuck me, this is fucking _amazing_."

After a few seconds, Denmark reached into one of the plastic bags and spotted the pregnancy tests. He was still trying to figure out how to ask her to take one when America suddenly gasped and threw the peanut butter pickle into the trash, her face turning seven different shades of green as she sprinted to the bathroom and heaved.

Denmark and Prussia were on her like a flash as soon as she was done, wiping her mouth with a disgusted look on her face.

"I can't keep anything down!" she bemoaned, her eyes filling with tears. "Fuck! Why did you guys let me eat that shit?"

She had turned to look at them accusingly. Prussia and Denmark held up their hands in a conciliatory manner as America stood up on wobbly legs.

"That was so gross!" Her eyes began to well with tears again. "Why would you guys buy me that stuff? Why would you… why…"

"You vere the one who asked for that stuff!" Prussia pointed out, shooting Denmark a look as if to say _FUCKING DO SOMETHING BEFORE SHE LEAKS AGAIN, YOU SHIT_.

"Don't point the finger of shame in this direction!" America snapped, her sadness turning to anger. "I'm an innocent party in this fucking shit! I'm—what is that?"

Before America could punch Prussia in the face, Denmark had quickly thrust a pregnancy test at her. Grabbing it from him, she eyed it shrewdly before her eyes widened and she gasped.

"Well, fuck me," America murmured, looking up. "That's… you think I might be pregnant?"

"I think it's worth checking out," Denmark replied a bit warily, hoping he hadn't just inadvertently pissed her off somehow. It didn't look like she was mad, though—instead, she just stared at the test quietly before pushing them out of the bathroom.

While they waited, Prussia did his best to distract Denmark, but nothing he did seemed to make Denmark any less tense. Finally, America opened the door and wordlessly handed them the used test.

Negative.

Denmark felt a whoosh of air leave his lungs as America angrily threw the test into the trash and then just kind of stood there, her expression downright devastated. She looked ready to cry all over again and Denmark hurriedly motioned for Prussia to give them some privacy. Prussia mumbled something about loving the view of the city from America's living room window and walked off, his expression clearly disappointed as well.

After a few moments of silence, Denmark took America's arm and turned her so she faced him. Sure enough, she was silently crying and didn't put up much of a fight as Denmark wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, murmuring that it was alright.

"I just really wanted to have a baby," America finally choked, hugging him close. "I was getting all excited waiting for the results and… fucking… dammit…"

Denmark kissed the top of her head and nodded, stroking her back. "I know, Mia. It's alright." After a pause, he smiled. "If you want, I would be more than happy to _try_ to have one."

America sniffled, tightening her grip. "You wanna have a baby with me?"

"Hell yeah!" Denmark grinned. "Can you imagine how fucking cool our kids would be?"

Seemingly feeling a bit better, especially at the idea that soon, perhaps, they _would_ have a baby, America pulled back and grinned. "They'd be the awesomest damn kids _ever_."

Denmark smirked. "The best part is _making_ them, don't you think? Wanna get started?"

America went from depressed to horny in half a second and Prussia was immediately thrown from the house and barred from reentering. He made his way home, mumbling about how he was going to go to Hungary's place and _they_ were going to have even _more_ sex than his 'shithead friends'.

* * *

It was sometime well past midnight when America shook Denmark awake with an urgency that led him to believe that either she suspected there was another ghost in her closet or that she had a nightmare where a hamburger tried to eat _her_ again.

"Wassat?" Denmark rolled over and blinked at her blearily. "Whass… What's up, Mia?"

She seemed to be completely lost for words and was waving two sticks in his face. After a few moments, he realized she was holding the other two pregnancy tests he had bought.

"Mia, it's not gonna show up yet, let's just go back to—"

"No!" America groaned, shoving at him again. "I took the other two for the hell of it after I woke up and puked again. Just _look_ at them."

Denmark sat up as America flicked on a lamp and handed them over. Denmark peered at them and then gasped, immediately awake.

Both pregnancy tests read the same exact thing.

Positive.


	36. The Big News

Canada was suspicious. He wasn't a total paranoid freak like his little sister could be, but there were times when he knew his eyes were narrowing while he internally connected the dots.

The dots weren't really connecting this time, though, which made everything very frustrating for him. He had spent about fifteen minutes glaring at Denmark from across the room and was trying his best to figure out why the guy was strutting around like a fucking peacock. Then there was that dumbass smile on his face that was all goofy and proud, like he had a secret that he really, _really_ wanted to tell someone, but he couldn't because that would somehow ruin _everything_.

Normally he wouldn't have cared that Denmark was proud of something since he was pretty sure the guy was proud of himself for remembering to brush his teeth in the morning. But while Denmark was acting like he had just won first prize at the Kentucky Derby, America was all sorts of jumpy and nervous, like she had something she was trying to hide, too. Not to mention that she was wearing a red, white and blue sparkly bikini top and a pair of Daisy Dukes. The whole ensemble was tied together with a pair of gaudy cowboy boots.

Not that America was normally especially shy about showing off some skin, but that was a bit ridiculous even for _her_. No one else was complaining about the nice view, though, and if Canada hadn't been so hard-pressed to find out what the fuck was going on with her and Denmark, he would have been seething with silent, invisible rage at all the perverts eyeing her chest.

"Are you feeling alright, Amerika?" Russia had asked, frowning at her while Belarus hovered, also frowning and glaring at everyone in the room accusingly, as if she could spot the perpetrator just by scowling at them. "You seem a bit pale and you didn't finish your hotdogs."

America glanced at the twenty hotdogs she had pushed aside and shrugged. "Uh… diet?"

Normally this would be believable, since she was _always_ on some kind of crazy diet. But he couldn't help but notice that she had seemed a bit chubbier as of late. Her cheeks seemed somewhat rounder and he had heard her complaining about her pants being too tight, too. Maybe that was why she was wearing the shorts to a World Meeting. She had been forbidden from doing so after England had pitched a fit and Canada had threatened to stab everyone's eyes out.

Denmark was proud about something. America was a jumpy, chubby mess. Somehow these things were related and for the life of him Canada couldn't figure it out.

Apparently Sweden and Finland could, though. Sweden had taken one long look at America and Denmark when he'd walked in and then promptly he had sucked in a sharp breath of air and hurried over, whispering something urgently. Denmark had nodded, looking prouder than ever while Finland had clapped and grinned, saying something about something being wonderful.

Oh, fuck, if those two had eloped Canada was going to go all Jack the Ripper on that spiky-haired hoser.

Perhaps Prussia would be of some assistance. That clown was the biggest gossipy bitch Canada had ever encountered in his life. He followed the sound of someone loudly saying the word "awesome" an inappropriate number of times and, sure enough, he found Prussia talking at Hungary and Germany.

"So I awesomely said, 'You think you can handle this, bro?!' And then he vas so scared, and he said, ' _Nein_! You are too awesome!' And I awesomely did this awesome thing vhere I just looked at him like _this_ —" Prussia then flipped his hair and made a face, causing Hungary to laugh and Germany to groan. "—and then he ran avay screaming like the unawesome baby he vas. It vas so awesome of me!"

Suddenly, the three of them sensed that they were no longer alone. It took nearly five minutes, but Canada managed to get their attention.

"Oh! _Hallo_ , uh…" Prussia trailed off, his brain seemingly straining. "Are you one of America's states?"

"I'm Canada," he said shortly, not even bothering to point out the huge maple leaf on his sweater. "I was actually wondering if you knew whether or not my sister is alright."

Prussia suddenly stepped back, his face seeming to pale, impossibly enough. "Ah, vhat?! _Vhat_? Vhat could be wrong vith the babe?! She is doing so awesome, just look at her!"

They all looked and saw America experimentally poking at a hotdog. She took a tiny nibble before turning green and then she threw up in France's designer bag that had been sitting on the table next to her. She waved France off as he began to sob and shriek while England doubled over and laughed so hard he turned red in the face. America didn't look quite so amused, though, and made a face as she whipped out a bottle of water and began to chug it in an attempt to get the taste of vomit out of her mouth.

"Okay, maybe she's been under the veather," Prussia allowed. "But, you know, it's starting to get cold out. She gets a little bit strange vhen the seasons change, you know that."

Canada stared Prussia down for a few long moments until the poor former nation began to sweat harder than a sinner in church.

"Stop looking at me like that!" Prussia said, shrinking back a bit as Canada narrowed his eyes at him. "You von't get the awesome me to say anything about anything!"

And then Prussia grabbed Hungary's arm and nearly fled, leaving Canada and Germany on their lonesome.

"He's an idiot," Germany finally declared. "But he definitely knows vhat's wrong vith America."

Canada tapped his chin in thought. "Do _you_ know anything about—"

"I don't care _that_ much," Germany interrupted. "I vill now excuse myself. Italy is here."

Canada silently glared between Denmark and America after Germany left, but nothing was making sense. He spotted an opening when America got up and excused herself to grab something from the vending machine. Canada quickly hurried over to her and tapped her shoulder as she was leaving.

"Hm?" America turned and glanced around for a few seconds before she spotted Canada waving a hand in her face. She then grabbed his arm and yanked him down the hall with her. "Mattie! I found you!"

"Morning, Mia." Canada eyed the big grin on her face as she pulled him over to the vending machine. "Are you feeling alright? What's with the outfit? You cosplaying as Daisy Duke again?"

"Dressing up like Daisy Duke is _always_ a good idea." America grinned as she eyed her options and then opted to address her brother instead. "I need you to make me some pancakes. I have been craving pancakes and you make _the best_."

Canada sighed. "Mia, we're about to start a meeting."

"Does it look like I give two fucks about the meeting?" America scoffed. "Unless the meeting is about you making me some pancakes, I don't care. I brought a griddle. You just need to work your magic."

"I don't know, Mia." Canada scratched the back of his neck and then crumbled under America's big, puppy-dog look. "Fine, I'll make you some pancakes."

America squealed, happy that she wouldn't have to eat vending machine food, and dragged Canada outside to the parking lot to grab her griddle and some pancake mix. As they made their way inside, Norway was making his way outside. He gasped the moment he saw America and then stepped back.

"Uh, hi?" America asked, cocking her head to the side. "You going somewhere?"

"Yes," Norway said shortly. "To church. And then to a synagogue. And then to a Hindu temple. Then to some old sacred ground to pray to Odin for protection. And then to Egypt to pray to one of _his_ gods. I'll pray to _anyone_ who to listen, and then I'm arming my country to the teeth, and _then_ I'll be disappearing from the face of the planet. _Denmark_ just gave me the horrible, horrible news."

America's mouth fell open and she frantically glanced at Canada, who once more resumed looking suspicious.

"Well, haha, good luck with all that!" America grabbed Canada's arm and began to yank him back into the building. "See ya later, grouchy pants!"

Norway grumbled something about the apocalypse under his breath and walked off while America escorted Canada back into the building, visibly nervous.

"Mia, what was _that_ about?" Canada asked as they made their way back into the meeting room.

"What was what about?" America mumbled. When Canada gave her a _don't fuck with me_ look, America sighed. "Sorry, Mattie. It's just… it's a surprise. I don't want to spoil it, even though _Mathias_ , it seems, already has, kinda."

Canada was pleased that America seemed a bit irritated with her boyfriend, but then she suddenly let out a small giggle.

"He's just so excited!" She opened the meeting doors. "He's like a big little kid!"

"Excited about _what_?" Canada demanded. America just hummed and tugged him back into the meeting room, shoving the griddle into his hands with a command to get cooking.

Canada begrudgingly did so, ignoring the strange looks he was getting as everyone settled in for the meeting to get started. America handed him a bag of gummy bears and motioned for him to add those into the pancakes. He did so and casted a dark look at Denmark when the guy plunked down in the seat next to America, turning to give her a huge smile.

"Alright, let's get this meeting going." Germany paused and looked at Canada making pancakes curiously. "Vhy are there pancakes cooking themselves?"

"What the what now?" America suddenly yelped, jumping away from the griddle. "Is it a ghost?! Is it a ghost making pancakes?!"

Canada couldn't _believe_ America had the nerve to forget she had _just_ asked him to make her pancakes. Just as she was about to make a break for it, he cleared his throat.

"Mia, it's me."

America blinked a few times and then a look of recognition passed over her face. "Oh! Oh, yeah! Sorry."

Canada continued to make pancakes while Germany began to talk about what they were going to discuss for the meeting.

"First up to talk about his plans to contribute assistance in the global warming crisis is Denmark," Germany said, motioning toward the nation in question. Denmark hopped up out of his seat and practically skipped to the front of the room.

"Well _hej hej_ , everyone!" Denmark greeted, flashing a huge grin. "Before I start talking about our environment crisis, I'd like to address something much more important and awesome!"

Germany groaned and rubbed his temples while Prussia conspicuously texted Hungary, ignoring the meeting in general.

"As you know, America and I have been seeing each other for some time," Denmark bragged, shooting a triumphant look throughout the room. A loud " _KOL_ " sounded from somewhere in the room and Australia could be seen rolling his eyes. Most other nations simply sighed in annoyance. They hated these 'relationship updates' the two often gave as they seemed to see themselves as the Brangelina of the nations.

Canada watched Denmark closely, but his attention was divided thanks to his natural instinct to make the perfect pancake.

Denmark continued, his grin huge. "And we're very happy together, which is why we've decided to take the next step in our relationship."

The room went quiet. Canada looked up, his expression damnably murderous. If they were about to announce some kind of American-Danish union or some shit like that, Denmark could shove that idea where the sun don't shine.

Prussia decided to break the silence, as per usual. "Is this news that involves everyone toasting vith some alcohol?!" He yanked a bottle of beer from his jacket and popped it open eagerly.

Denmark shrugged. "I mean, it _can_ be, I guess. Well, not for Mia, obviously."

Silence once more settled over the room as everyone began to connect the dots. America unable to eat her hotdogs without vomiting. Her demanding gummy bear pancakes. Denmark strutting around like a peacock with a God complex. Norway rushing out of the meeting, declaring his sudden faith in the power of prayer.

Holy shit.

"Holy shit!" Prussia yelled from where he sat, slamming a fist on the table. "She's pregnant, isn't she?! _Isn't she_?!"

"I thought you already knew that," Germany said, casting Prussia a confused look.

"Fuck no, I didn't!" Prussia pouted. "Some friends!"

"You sure _acted_ like you did," Hungary observed.

Prussia shrugged. "Give me a break, I just _act_ like I know everything. You know that."

Austria sniffed. "Indeed. It's good to hear you admit that, though."

Prussia scowled at Austria as Germany grumbled, "Then vhy vere you acting so suspicious vhen Canada vas questioning you earlier?"

"Because I alvays have _something_ to act suspicious about! It's like you don't even know me!"

While this whole bickering match went down, Canada was completely zoned out. His mind was basically just the sound of glass shattering over and over again. He finally came to when he smelled his pancakes burn.

_Okay, you can stay calm_ , he coached himself. _Stay. Fucking. Calm. No one needs to get impaled with a hockey stick. Not even a hoser like Denmark. Just stay calm_.

His pep talk was completely destroyed when he heard America telling England about how she read that babies are smarter if you let them listen to music in the womb and pressed her headphones, which were audibly blaring Iggy Azalea, to her stomach.

"Crikey," Australia whispered from somewhere nearby. "I reckon I'll be skipping work all week. Too busy being pissed off my ass, as it were."

" _Da_ ," Russia said. He was visibly clinging to his metal pipe like it was a teddy bear, as if doing so would make this nightmare end. Next to him, Netherlands just sighed and wistfully stared at a photo of America in a Playboy Bunny outfit while Belarus glared at the floor.

Canada couldn't believe all these morons were just going to _give up_. He turned, raising his spatula like a weapon while Denmark and America babbled about name ideas.

"I want to name our kid after the leader of the free world," America was saying. "So if we're having a girl, she'll be named Beyoncé."

"And if it's a boy?" England asked. He was already staring at America's stomach like he could will it to grow through mind control.

America grinned. "If we're having a boy, he'll be Eminem."

As America spoke, Denmark stood nearby, shaking his head and mouthing "no" over and over again.

"Is that why you are dressed so deliciously, _mon petit chou_?" France asked, motioning towards America's attire.

"Oh, right." America laughed. "I figured I'd better wear this shit while I still can. You know, I'm about to get all fat and stuff."

"I approve," France said, clearly checking her out. Denmark scowled and moved to try to keep America out of his line of vision.

"Listen up, you hosers," Canada growled to the moping lovelorn nations that were making plans to get drunk and cry themselves to sleep for the foreseeable future. "You're going to just roll over and let Denmark have his way with her? You're just going to give up?"

Russia, Netherlands, Belarus and Australia were looking around, confused.

Finally, Russia said, "But mysterious voice, what are we supposed to do?!"

Canada smirked and rubbed his hands together diabolically. He was feeling so diabolical that he couldn't even bring himself to be angry that no one seemed to realize it was _him_ speaking.

"I have a plan," Canada sniggered, glancing over at where America and Denmark stood. Japan was congratulating them and France was cooing about how he couldn't wait to design baby clothes. Prussia was practically doing backflips and demanding that they let _him_ name the kid.

Soon, Denmark would get his. _Soon_.


	37. The Awesome Olympics pt. 1

Japan had been having a very nice day. It had been rather peaceful to spend his afternoon in his garden, and now he was planning on a nice dinner and some television before going to sleep to prepare for an equally peaceful day tomorrow.

His plans were destroyed when a slightly-familiar person in sunglasses and bleached-blonde hair knocked on his door, smacking her gum loudly while she rapidly texted someone on her phone. She most certainly was not Japanese, and judging from the attire and the weird ability to somehow be loud without saying a single word, Japan would guess this girl was American.

He opened his door and peeked out at her, frowning a bit as she lowered her sunglasses to get a good look at him.

"You're Japan, right?" she asked, pushing her sunglasses back in place before she went back to texting.

Japan looked around curiously before he nodded. "Uh, _konnichiwa_ , may I help you with something?"

The girl flipped her hair and gave a curt nod. "Yeah, you need to, like, come with me. America wants to see you."

"America-chan?" Japan opened his door a bit more widely. "Forgive me for asking, but what does she need me for?"

"Ugh!" The girl looked up angrily from her cell phone and placed a hand on her hip, giving Japan an offended look. "What is this, are you giving me, like, the fucking ninth degree? God! Just come with me!"

With that, the blonde girl turned around and flounced towards a cherry red car where someone else was waiting in the driver's seat, blaring Fleetwood Mac from the speakers. Japan lingered nervously in his doorway, looking around as if half-expecting some kind of trap, but jumped in surprise when the girl blared the car horn at him.

"Get in the damn car!"

Japan hurried out of his home, murmuring under his breath about rudeness before he got into the backseat and buckled in, getting a good look at the two in the car.

The guy in the driver's seat was humming along to the music. He, too, was clad in sunglasses, although his hair was dark and his skin, too, was a more natural tan, whereas the blonde's seemed like it was a product of lots of purposeful sunbathing in a booth.

The blonde in question was in the passenger's seat, her feet propped up on the dashboard and her cell phone out again, texting someone named… Japan squinted and caught the name ' _New Jersey_ '.

New Jersey? Wasn't that one of America's states?

"Oh!" Japan could have hit himself on the forehead once he figured it out. "You two are some of America's states!"

"Hell yeah we are!" The guy grinned, turning down the music a bit to shoot Japan a grin. "We had nothing going on today, so I said we'd come pick you up."

"My apologies, but I do not believe I know your names," Japan said, giving them a nod.

The guy began to speak, but the blonde beat him to the punch, dropping her phone in her lap to turn around and issue Japan a glare.

"What?! You mean _you don't know who I am_?!" She looked at the driver, her expression both baffled and offended. "Like, are you listening to this? Can you believe this?!"

"Someone outside the U.S. doesn't know who you are?" the guy snorted. "Wow, Cali, you live a hard life."

The girl harrumphed and faced forward again, picking up her phone to continue texting.

"Anyway, the diva's California," the guy said, nodding toward the blonde. " _Lo siento_ , she's had a bad day. Texas reminded her about the whole Schwarzenegger thing—"

" _Don't say that name_!"

"She's still a little sensitive about it." The guy let out a small laughed. "And I'm Arizona. But most people call me _El Guapo_!"

"As if!" California said, elbowing him. She suddenly squinted at the radio and frowned, reaching forward to change the music. "Why are we listening to this?" After fiddling with the radio for a few moments, she grinned when Katy Perry began to blare through the speakers. Arizona rolled his eyes and grumbled a bit, but gave Japan a _what can you do_? smile.

Japan nodded. "It is nice to meet both of you as well. If it's not too much to ask, why does America-chan need to see me?"

"Right!" Arizona nodded, as if just remembering the whole purpose of going to Tokyo. "So dig this. America's at her place with Denmark, as usual, and I think the loud albino was there, too. Anyway, so… who was it? Missouri?"

"It was Missouri," California confirmed, popping some pink gum into her mouth.

"So Missouri goes over to bosslady's house about all the shit going down in her state when all of a sudden Russia shows up."

Both states shivered and Japan had to marvel that even those under America's protection were freaked out about the guy.

"So Russia is all, 'You will fight me for her, _da_?'" Arizona continued. "And then, of course, Bosslady America was all sorts of huffy, saying it wasn't the twelfth century and no one had to fight anyone for the hand of a lady or something…"

California nodded and snapped her gum. "Missouri said he was being _way_ creeptastic about it, too. Like, Freddy Kruger creepy."

"So then Denmark, of course, gets all pissy about being challenged, but he listens to America and backs off because he knows it's not worth it. I mean, _ay dios mio_ , she's pregnant with his baby!"

"Like we needed other territories to compete with," California grumbled.

"But then the albino, who was he…?"

"Prussia?" Japan offered.

"Ah, _claro_." Arizona grinned good-naturedly. "So Prussia apparently accepted the challenge because he couldn't stand the sight of Denmark acting like a pussy or something. So turns out our neighbors to the North, uh… shit, what country is that?"

California paused and thought it over hard before she began to frantically text on her phone. "Hang on, I'll ask Minnie, I think she's dating someone from up there." In a matter of seconds after California sent off the text, she got a reply. "Oh, yup, let's see… oh, yeah! Canada!"

"So Canada, as it turns out, has this whole 'Olympics' planned, but Prussia decided to call it 'the Awesome Olympics' to make it more fun. America _wanted_ to compete and she almost made them let her, but I guess Denmark convinced her that playing dangerous sports while she's pregnant isn't such a good idea and they told her she could come up with the events. So she suggested we grab you, her loyal friend, and have you compete, too." Arizona paused and then grinned. "And some of _us_ , of course."

"Other states?" Japan tried to think over some of the states he'd met before. He was sure he'd seen some in wartime or in passing, but there were just so many of them it was hard to keep straight. And then he realized he would be in one of the Awesome Trio's no-doubt insane Olympics. "Hey, wait. _I_ have to do these, too?"

"Totally," California said, shooting him a smirk as if to say _tough luck, loser_.

Japan decided to begin to say his final prayers and thanked his lucky stars that he had had the foresight to write up a last will and testament, because he doubted he was coming out of this alive.

* * *

The makeshift-Olympic stadium that had been quickly thrown together in Nashville, Tennessee, was actually pretty nice. France, naturally, had mocked the décor as "tasteless" and "bumpkin", but after Tennessee heard that and threatened to beat France with his guitar, the Frenchman had quickly backed off and apologized out his ass until Tennessee was appeased.

Counties mingled, glancing at the states almost curiously. A few states even sort of _looked_ like some of the countries gathered, causing a lot of double-takes and excited whispering amongst everyone. Now that Japan thought about it, Arizona kind of looked a lot like Mexico. So did California, if it weren't for the bleached hair, anyway. He was incredibly surprised by the sheer number of states, however, that seemed to resemble Germany.

California had immediately found New Jersey and the two of them were joined by Florida. The three of them had ditched Arizona and Japan upon their arrival without even bothering to say goodbye.

"Fine, guess _I'll_ get you to the practice fields." Arizona rolled his eyes. "I guess you wanna know the itinerary?"

Actually, Japan wanted to pretend to be busy and go home, but he was a terrible liar and Arizona seemed nice, so he just nodded and followed him through the stadium. It seemed he was rather well-liked, several states waving hello or even stopping to give him a hug here and there. They had been accosted for nearly twenty minutes by Nevada, who had bragged incessantly about his poker face, before they were able to make it to the practice field.

Japan immediately spotted Denmark and Prussia stretching on the field. They were joined by two states that were stretching and chatting. One was a husky, dark-haired young man wearing a cowboy hat and a sweatshirt that read REMEMBER THE ALAMO while the other was a tall young woman with long blonde hair pulled into braids sporting a pair of green sweatpants that said NORTH STARS along the leg. The girl was talking a mile a minute while the guy was simply nodding and every so often throwing his two cents into the conversation. Japan then spied several other states here and there—he even recognized one as Hawaii, who was showing off his surfboard to what looked like a pair of twins, one in a t-shirt with a picture of Mount Rushmore on it and the other guzzling beer.

On the other side of the field, Japan spied Canada speaking very seriously with Netherlands, Russia, Belarus and Australia. All of them were in workout clothes and, strangely, seemed rather intense about whatever it was Canada was saying.

" _Hola_ ," Arizona greeted as they neared Denmark and Prussia. "I brought Japan, just like the bosslady asked. Uh… where is the boss?"

"She said something about going to grab some food from the concessions stand," Denmark replied. He then beamed when he saw Japan. "Awesome! You two got him!"

Arizona flashed a thumbs-up. "Yep, and if you don't mind, I'm outta here. I promised Nevada that I'd play him in a few rounds of Blackjack the other day."

After Arizona left, Denmark handed Japan the list of planned events and quickly filled him in on everything.

"So we let America create the events to kind of, you know… lessen her rage." Denmark sighed. "I'd love for her to compete, but who knows how rough these events can get, right? We have human Angry Birds, for crying out loud!"

Japan's eyes widened and he gulped. "Human Angry Birds? I don't really want to…"

" _Ja_ , New Jersey's going to be launching us at things!" Prussia said eagerly, motioning towards a shorter state with long dark hair who was chatting on her cell phone and kept shooting dark looks at a state Japan assumed to be New York, judging by the 'I Heart New York' t-shirt she wore. "How fucking cool is that?!"

"Well, I don't think that's going to be as much fun as pin-ball hockey," Denmark added.

Prussia suddenly spied someone over Japan's shoulder and grinned. " _Hallo, bruder_!"

Japan turned, relaxing a bit as Germany came over. He was dressed in a black tank and a pair of green sweats; a whistle hung around his neck. He gave Japan a polite nod before he lifted the whistle to his lips and blew, motioning for the competing states to gather round.

"I vill make this brief," Germany said curtly. "You vill address me as Coach Germany and you vill do as I say. Any questions?"

"God, Europeans really blow sometimes," New Jersey commented, checking her nails.

Germany's face began to turn red and Denmark and Prussia both exchanged looks. The blonde state wearing the North Stars sweats suddenly let out a nervous laugh and lifted her hands in a conciliatory manner.

"I betcha what Jersey means is that maybe we all should become more familiar with each other," she said hurriedly. "That way it'll be easier to work together, yah know?"

"Minnie hates confrontation," the state in the Alamo sweatshirt explained to the countries. "She ain't called 'Minnesota Nice' fer nothin'."

"Yeah, right," a different state spoke up. He was listening to an iPod, Michael Jackson music blaring out of it loudly. "Put her in the same room with Wisconsin for five minutes and she's the opposite of 'nice'. Or, better yet, ask her what she thinks of Iowa."

Minnesota turned to issue the state with a sharp glare and simply said, in a surprisingly calm tone, "Whatever."

The state that had spoken blanched and quickly distracted himself to fiddle with his iPod while the Alamo state patted her shoulder, causing her to visibly relax.

"On that note, I'm Texas," the guy said, tipping his hat to the gathered nations. "The Lone Star State. This here is Minnesota."

"The North Star State, yah know," she added, giving the countries a nice smile, her sour look instantly gone.

"I'm Hawaii! The Aloha State!" Hawaii paused and then gave everyone a winning smile, strumming his ukulele as he greeted, "Aloha!"

"I'm North Dakota." He took a swig of his beer and then gave them all a pleasant smile. "The Peace Garden State!"

"I'm Indiana," the state with the iPod said, not even glancing up from the screen. "The Hoosier State."

Everyone turned to look at New Jersey and a yet-unidentified state ignoring them in favor of gossiping.

"Well _I_ heard Virginia isn't speaking to Georgia at the moment," the male state was saying. His hair was naturally sun-bleached and he had a nice tan. He was dressed quite stylishly, although he wore a plastic Mickey Mouse watch that didn't seem to match his otherwise trendy outfit at all. "West Virginia said that apparently Virginia thinks Georgia got drunk at Colorado's birthday last week and started badmouthing her. Vermont says he _swears_ Georgia wasn't, but come on, everyone knows Georgia's been jealous of Ginny since way back, you know, when—"

"EXCUSE ME," Germany snapped, causing New Jersey and the other state to jump and stare at him with wide eyes. "VE HAVE TRAINING NOW. TELL US YOUR NAMES!"

"Uh… New Jersey. The Garden State."

"Florida. The Sunshine State."

"Vas that so hard?" Germany grumbled. "Now, ve have much training to do! I have been asked to make sure you are all performing at your best level and despite the fact that I think this is a vaste of time and stupid, I am bound by my manly honor to make sure you all succeed."

"Yee-haw!" Texas cried, pulling his cowboy hat off to throw it into the air. "Let's get to trainin', ya'll!"

Germany blew on his whistle and the training began.

* * *

Training was abso-fucking-lutely brutal, but none of them were exactly surprised by it. It was a lot of whistle-blowing, yelling, sweating, running, running and _more_ running. New Jersey was being taught some target practice with the guys giving her mannequins to practice launching at targets, but her aim, as it turned out, was absolutely terrible. It was later discovered that this was because she was terrified about breaking her newly-manicured nails. Germany had yelled at her so much about it that she had eventually just had her fake nails removed, but she was in a horribly bitchy mood about it all week. Florida, too, had put up a big stink about having to do work in general, considering his days more or less consisted of laying out on the beach or roaming Disney World at his leisure.

Texas and North Dakota, however, was having a great old time. One of Texas's favorite pastimes was golf, and 'Extreme Golf' sounded like way too much fun. Once the complexities of his event were explained to him, he had nearly done backflips he'd been so excited. North Dakota's category—ultimate beer chugging—just gave him an excuse to drink a whole bunch of foreign beer from the moment he woke up until the moment he passed out.

Meanwhile, Hawaii, Indiana and Minnesota were all incredibly offended at the idea of having to practice sports they absolutely prided themselves in.

"Just go practice!" Germany snapped when he had spotted them loitering. Minnesota was looking around, mumbling about her 'Cheesehead senses tingling' while Indiana was talking with New Mexico, who was more or less bragging about how he was going on a date with Baja California later that week. Meanwhile, Hawaii was trying to convince Alaska to wear a lei.

"America asked me to compete in car jousting because I am _the best_ driver in the whole damn country!" Indiana had yelled to a very-stoic and somewhat-annoyed Germany. "Why don't you go ask Kentucky to practice horse racing? Or maybe you should tell Illinois to practice making deep dish pizza? I. Am. Indiana. I could drive _circles_ around your sauerkraut ass!"

Hawaii just smiled in amusement and Minnesota looked torn, unable to decide whether or not she wanted to try to diffuse the oncoming fight, run away and cry or argue that she was a hockey expert and the idea of having to practice hockey with a bunch of half-wits who had never put on a pair of skates made her want to vomit.

"Woah, woah, woah." America had apparently decided to show up, munching on a family-sized bag of flavor-blasted chips while chugging what appeared to be a jar of pure pickle juice. Behind her stood Molossia, who was holding giant garbage bags filled with what turned out to be butterscotch pudding. She glanced at Indiana, who was red in the face from yelling, then at Minnesota, who looked like she was on the edge of a nervous breakdown, then at Hawaii, who was pouting, and finally at Germany, who looked like he was trying to weigh the pros and cons of punching Indiana's lights out, telling Hawaii that pouting was for ill-behaved children and snipping Minnesota to calm the fuck down and speak her mind for once. "You bullying my states? Wait, you're not trying to make them eat some kind of creepy foreign German food, are you? Like that bass-ackwards white asparagus I had last time I was in Frankfurt? Scared the shit out of me."

"Minnesota eats lutefisk," Hawaii said, jerking a thumb at her. "I'm pretty sure sauerkraut is pretty mild for her pallet."

"I like sauerkraut," Minnesota added. Indiana chimed in with a "me, too".

Germany swallowed and immediately backed off as America eyed her states with some amusement before turning a critical eye on him. "N-no. I vas just trying to get them to practice their events."

"Oh." America gave the three a look. "Just do what he says, guys. C'mon."

Minnesota hurried off without argument, though she did stall when Wisconsin popped out from nowhere. She then hauled ass out of there, mumbling profanities as she fled, while Wisconsin just laughed and followed her out. Hawaii wandered off, humming an Elvis song to himself as he plucked up his surfboard and joined Australia in practicing their surfing.

Indiana, meanwhile, whined for a few long moments before he gave up and sulked off, shooting Germany dark looks as he left.

"Sorry," America said, motioning for Molossia to hand her the pudding garbage bag. "My states can be… touchy. I walked in here and had to have the Carolinas physically remove New York and Massachusetts after Massachusetts was saying that it's the Red Sox's year, and then New York threatened to beat him over the head with a baseball bat if he didn't take it back, and then Massachusetts was talking about how New York doesn't have Derek Jeter to carry their half-assed team to victory and then it just got… bad."

America shuddered and took a sip of pickle juice while Germany watched in silence, staring with clear disgust.

"Anyway, Mathias is over there practicing in shorts and no shirt, so I'm going to go fangirl," she said, motioning for Molossia to follow. "Come along, friend! We have handsome men to oogle!"

"Oh, boy," Molossia grumbled, but he followed nonetheless, shooting Germany a suspicious look as they passed.

"Freaks," Germany mumbled, heading off. He was pretty sure Texas was threatening to shove his golf club up Oklahoma's ass… again.

* * *

"I am _so_ ready for this!" Hawaii was saying eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He wore what he always wore—a typical Hawaiian shirt, shorts and a pair of flip-flops. The moment he'd walked into the room he had given everyone a lei (even Germany, who hadn't fought it nearly as much as everyone thought he would) and then had sat down and offered to play his ukulele to get everyone in the spirit of competition.

" _Nein_ , ve have no time for your time-vasting!" Germany said.

It was finally competition day. After nearly a week of training they were as ready as they would ever be. It had been an uphill battle, too—California had swung by at some point to say hi to New Jersey and Florida, which had set Texas off. California had gone on a big anti-gun rant and, to prove that guns were perfectly safe in the hands of someone competent, Texas had taken one of his own concealed handguns off his person to demonstrate by shooting an apple off of North Dakota's head. California had immediately screamed and demanded to know _why_ he found it necessary to carry a gun around the upcoming sporting event.

"I don't just have _one_ ," Texas had corrected her. "I have about five on me and roughly seven more hidden around the area. Just in case. I've also situated landmines around the area, so just stay on the marked paths and nothing will blow up. Probably."

California had then fled the complex, claiming it to be unsafe, and Texas had argued that, really, they were all _safer_ thanks to him being armed. Germany had quickly gotten everyone back on track.

Another incident had come up only hours later when Wisconsin had swung by wearing a Packers jersey and had been prepared to offer everyone some complimentary cheese. Minnesota had already staked a reputation among Germany, Denmark and Prussia as the only one who seemed relatively normal (if not suspiciously nice), but she had immediately gotten into it with Wisconsin, yelling about how the Packers sucked, how he was a hick and furthermore, his state was a shitty version of everything that could be found in _her_ state. Wisconsin had called her an uptight liberal pantywaist, which had prompted Minnesota to call Wisconsin a racist cheesehead bumpkin. Wisconsin was eventually carted out by North Dakota and Texas had to calm Minnesota down by offering to watch _Mighty Ducks_ with her later.

There had nearly been a third incident that involved New York, who everyone already _knew_ hated New Jersey, coming by to loudly talk about _Jersey Shore_ , obviously just to get a rise out of Jersey herself. Luckily, Germany had more or less been prepared for another bickering match and had quickly shooed New York off with a mixture of intimidation and more intimidation.

But finally, it was all going to pay off. At least, Germany sure hoped so. It had _better_ pay off. As promised, Indiana had turned out to be an excellent driver, easily flexing his skills on a racetrack. Minnesota had managed to get her Canadian friends to practice hockey with her and, again, as promised, she was excellent. Hawaii, too, easily kept up with Australia while surfing. Florida had been practicing his event by doing tons of shopping with New Jersey (although Germany had no idea _how_ that was training, and when he had asked, Florida had berated him in a fashion that would put Romana to shame) and North Dakota had been spending copious amounts of time at a few local bars, typically joined by New Hampshire and Montana, to prep himself, occasionally also joined by his twin.

Yes, things were certainly going according to plan.

Naturally, that means that shit hit the fan.


	38. The Awesome Olympics pt. 2

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, China's breasts that are mine, lend me your ears!" South Korea said into his microphone, posing in his brightly-colored tuxedo. The incessant chatter in the stands ceased somewhat and everyone turned to watch him. "Welcome, one and all, to the Awesome Olympics!"

The audience, made up of not only countries that had been blackmailed into coming, but states, provinces and large cities from around the world who came to watch their friends crash and burn, all applauded, some eager because the faster the games were done, the faster they could go home, while others seemed genuinely excited to have something to do. England sat up near the front, a small laptop sitting in his lap, typing away frantically. He was there to, more or less, give a scathing review of the idiocy that was no doubt going to be coming out of this massive waste of time. France, meanwhile, was sitting next to England, casting the chili dog he had purchased out of curiosity a bit suspiciously. It had either been that or the Frito pie, and the chili dog had looked far less disgusting.

Meanwhile, beside him sat Canada, who was grinning evilly. Yes, this would surely work. His sister would soon see that Denmark was no good for her. She would see reason, surely, just this once. And then she would dump his sorry butt and head up to Toronto to eat pancakes and shoot the shit. Plus, he'd get a niece or nephew out of this and no annoying brother-in-law to worry about.

"'Scuse me, pardon me, coming through!" America shoved her way through the bleachers with Molossia in tow. The micro-nation was scowling, as if wondering how on Earth he'd ended up as America's servant boy for the day. America plopped down next to Canada and then wordlessly lifted her feet into his lap, letting out a long sigh. "Much better."

"Mia, why?" Canada grumbled, glaring down at her feet. America simply wiggled her toes and gave him a puppy dog stare, which is how Canada found himself rubbing his sister's feet. He only half-paid attention to South Korea's excited ramblings while he thought up all the grotesque ways that Denmark was going to get his ass beaten.

"On one side of the ring we have Team One!" South Korea said excitedly. "Russia, Netherlands, Australia and Belarus! They will be competing against Team Two—"

"Team _Awesome_ ," Prussia corrected angrily. "Get it right!"

"Sorry. They will compete against Team Awesome: Prussia, Denmark, Japan and, now this is exciting, a handful of America's best and brightest states!"

Kentucky laughed loudly and shouted, " _Best and brightest? Then what the hell is Indiana doing on that team_?"

Indiana then gave Kentucky the middle finger salute while South Korea just laughed. "Sibling rivalry! How fun and quirky!"

"It's not fun when they're all calling you to complain twenty-four seven," America grumbled. "My states are all lucky they're so cute."

"Cute?" England frowned and glanced down at the stage where Texas was showing North Dakota one of his personal landmines and Minnesota was stuffing as much tater tot hot dish into her mouth as she could while New Jersey and Florida watched on in horror. Meanwhile, Hawaii was attempting to convince Denmark to try some poi. "Do you know the definition of cute? Should I be buying you an English dictionary for Christmas?"

"Shut it, Iggy," America grumbled, motioning for Molossia to hand over the huge bag of food. She fished around for a while before she grinned and yanked out some frozen waffles and nacho-flavored chips. England, Canada and Molossia watched, stupefied, as America crushed the chips up, sprinkled them on the waffles and then ate it with gusto.

To be honest, America wasn't so much having cravings as she was taking advantage of the whole "pregnancy thing" to give her an excuse to eat a lot of crazy shit that society would normally dictate was gross and unwarranted. But now that she was, you know, creating life, no one could say a damned thing.

Not without getting their whole face punched in, anyway.

* * *

Team Awesome was gathered in the locker room, getting mentally prepared for the games.

"Should someone say some awesome vords?" Prussia suggested, looking around at the gathered nations and states. "Although I vould think just staring at my awesomeness for a vhile might be enough to make you all feel at least a little bit awesome. Or make you depressed that you are not as awesome as me."

"Punching you in the face might make us all feel better," Denmark suggested, rolling his eyes. "But does anyone want to say anything? Japan?"

Japan looked like he was ready to throw up. He began to inch towards the exit, as if prepared to make a break for it. "I am actually feeling a bit put out, so I think I will be taking my leave…"

"Hold yer horses!" Texas said cheerfully, yanking Japan back. "I _know_ ya weren't plannin' on ditchin' out on us! Right?"

Japan swallowed, remembering suddenly that Texas was more armed than a Navy Seal. The guy carried _land mines_ on him. "Ah, _hai_ , I was just going to… take some medicine to calm my nerves."

"Aw, you're scaring him!" New Jersey said, suddenly yanking Japan out of Texas's iron grip. "Look at how cuuuuute he is! Like a little man boy doll!"

New Jersey and Florida then both embraced Japan happily, cooing over how cute he was.

"Oh, man, if you'd just let me style your hair!" Florida was saying cheerfully. "You'd be cuter than a button!"

Prussia and Denmark watched the scene, amused, as Japan seemed to be nearing a mental breakdown with all the cuddling and baby talk and pinched cheeks and ruffled hair.

"I have something to say!" Indiana volunteered, raising a hand. He stood up on one of the benches and looked around the room meaningfully. "As the late, great King of Pop, the greatest singer of all time and furthermore a revolutionary musician who changed the face of music itself once said, and I quote with reverence, ' _Show them how funky strong is your fight_! _It doesn't matter who's wrong or right_! _Just beat_ —"

"Excuse me?" Minnesota said, her expression downright offended. She, too, stood on one of the benches and gave Indiana a shitty look. "' _The greatest singer of all time_?' ' _A revolutionary musician who changed the face of music itself_?' Wrong, wrong, WRONG!"

" _Excuse me_? Who asked for _your_ opinion, Minne-snow-duh?!" Indiana looked absolutely affronted while the others watched in amusement.

"Uff-dah!" Minnesota huffed and looked at everyone meaningfully. "In the words of the purest of pop icons, a literal symbol, and the _real_ revolutionary musician who changed the face of music itself once said, ' _Dearly beloved, we have gathered here today to get through this thing called life. An electric word 'life', and that means forever, and that's a mighty long time, but_ —"

"If you let her keep going, she's going to quote the entire _Purple Rain_ soundtrack," Texas said. "And then she'll make us watch the movie."

"I think we're a little off track," Denmark said. He motioned for Indiana and Minnesota to sit down. "Maybe a nice, simple little speech. Hawaii?"

Hawaii blinked, surprised, and then gave a smile. "Uh… sure, sure." He gave some thought and then nodded. _"`Onipa`a._ "

Everyone stared at him blankly for a few long moments before he sighed.

"It means 'stand firm'. It was one of my queen's mottos."

Prussia grinned. "Awesome! _`Onipa`a_ , losers!"

* * *

The first event was the car jousting. As South Korea enthusiastically announced the contestants, America stepped up holding a checkered flag in one hand and what appeared to be a corn on the cob covered in a whole stick of butter in the other.

"First things first, gotta make sure you have a license to drive," America said. "Indy, lemme see."

Indiana rolled his eyes dramatically and yanked out his license, shoving it at her. "Here. Hurry up, I wanna race."

"Change the 'tude, dude," America said easily, eyeing his license. She quirked an eyebrow and shook her head. "This is expired by twelve fucking years."

"Is it?" Indiana asked innocently. "Well, you know how time flies, guess I forgot to renew it. I'll do that right after the games."

"You realize you can't drive, right?" America asked blandly.

"I will not drive with someone who is not able to drive by law," Japan spoke up, sweat beginning to gather on his forehead. Flashbacks of his car ride of doom with Italy was making him dizzy. "Never again."

"Aw, what?" Indiana's eyes grew wide. "Boss, you can't—"

"I can and I will," America said firmly.

"But… but can't you just make an exception?!"

"Yeah, Mia," Prussia said a bit irritably, sending a glare towards where Russia was giving them the stare of evil. "This is kind of important."

"And _I_ am going to be someone's _mother_ ," America pointed out. "As much as I'd love to lie and cheat and sneak around like some kind of cornball villain from a silent film, I can't," Her shoulders slumped. "I am bound by an oath Mattie made me take to be 'impartial' on this kind of crap."

Denmark. "C'mon, how's he gonna know if you just—"

"Are you all talking about me?"

Denmark jumped, although he was the only one who seemed to notice Canada standing there, glaring holes into his head.

"Eh? Who said that?" America frowned and looked around before she spied her brother. "Oh! Mattie!"

Canada gave a deceptively kind smile and stepped up next to his sister. "Something wrong?"

"Yeah, kinda." America rubbed the back of her head. "Indiana's license is expired."

"Oh. So no racing for him, huh?"

"Bullshit!" Indiana said, his expression indignant.

"Bull- _correct_ ," America said. "Someone else will have to drive."

"Hungary has me on an environmentalist kick, so I won't be driving," Prussia said. "If I do, she might withhold sex… again."

"I have been banned from driving in America ever since the whole incident where I may or may not have driven that Ferrari through that Baskin-Robbins on our second date," Denmark admitted sheepishly.

"So that leaves Japan," Canada said, nodding at the nation in question. "Indiana can do the jousting and Denmark and Prussia can provide trash talk."

"Ah, _fuck yes_ ," Prussia cheered, high-fiving Denmark. "Ve are the best trash talkers _ever_!"

* * *

Each car was situated on two different sides of the track, facing each other. Belarus revved the engine for hers while Japan delicately tested the gas pedal of his own car, trying to test the sensitivity.

Meanwhile, Indiana held a giant jousting stick and was straddling the open window on the passenger side of the car, glaring at his opponent, the Netherlands. In the backseat of the car, Denmark and Prussia both had their own megaphones, as did Russia and Australia in the other car.

"Our exciting first event is car jousting!" South Korea was saying eagerly while America stepped into the middle of the track. She gave Team Awesome a thumbs up and then stuck her tongue out at their opposition. "Let's begin!"

"Three… two… one!" America waved the checkered flag and then darted off the track as the two cars rocketed out of the starting line.

Well. _One_ car—the car Belarus was driving—rocketed out. The other—the car Japan was cautiously driving—drove at a safe and reasonable speed for a residential road.

"What the fuck, man?!" Indiana said, giving Japan a horrified look before focusing back on the task at hand. "If you don't speed up I'm gonna die!"

" _I didn't realize a grandma was driving your car_!" Australia mocked.

"I am unsure of the speed limit, so I am simply playing it safe and abiding by the rules," Japan said calmly, checking his speedometer.

"It's a fucking race track! There is no such _thing_ as a speed limit!" Indiana screeched. The other car was getting closer and Indiana's imminent death was coming at him faster than he was meeting it. " _HIT IT_!"

" _Hey, losers_! _How does it feel knowing you are not as awesome as us_?" Prussia was saying while Denmark kicked the back of Japan's seat to get him to hurry up.

" _Ja_!" Denmark chortled. " _How does it feel knowing that after we kick your asses, I'm going to have awesome marathon sex with America_? _Not that any of you would know how awesome it is_ —"

" _Comrade, I am more than delighted to remind you that I DO know how 'awesome' it is_ ," Russia interrupted smugly. " _Or did you forget that Amerika was my lover first_?"

"Fucking…" Denmark leaned forward and shouted in Japan's ear, "STEP ON IT!"

"Alright, alright!" Japan pulled a bitchface but sped up a bit. Barely. They were now going roughly a bit faster than someone speed walking, by Indiana's calculations.

Not that it mattered. Indiana found himself roughly thrown off the car when Netherlands hit him square in the chest with his javelin, sending the state flying off to flop around like a dead fish on the nearby grass. From where he and America stood on the sidelines with South Korea, Canada blew his whistle in triumph.

"Team One wins!" South Korea announced jovially into his microphone. "Netherlands put an impressive smack-down on Indiana, thus bringing Team One into an immediate lead! We'll soon be unveiling our next event, Human Angry Birds featuring the Garden State herself, New Jersey, an original colony, I'm told, after a word from our sponsor!"

* * *

"Hi there, ya'll! I'm Arkansas, home of world-renown Walmart! We're proud to help your home, your life, and your wallet! Where else can you buy your children their first bike _and_ their first shotgun? Walmart! See you there!"

* * *

"So you know what to do, right?" Denmark pressed as New Jersey inspected her nails, her expression bored. She gave Denmark an _are you shitting me_? glare and gave a very put-upon sigh.

" _Yes_. I aim you guys at those big Lincoln Log structures and make sure you knock them all down with your flailing bodies. It's not exactly rocket science."

" _Nein_ , it's physics and math," Prussia said. "And some hand-eye coordination and upper body strength. Can you handle this?"

New Jersey gnashed her teeth together and gave Prussia and Denmark the full brunt of her righteously furious glare. "For fucks sake, _yes_! I fought in the goddamn motherfucking Revolutionary War _and_ the fucking Civil War, and both times I was on the fucking winning side! Not to mention both World Wars, you dipshits! How have _your_ war records looked in the last hundred years or so?! Wanna compare lists?! Because I am more than willing to do so!"

Prussia, Denmark and Japan all fell silent and gave her long stares before Denmark finally gave a small nod.

"Ooookay. I think she's got this," Denmark relented and New Jersey rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath.

All three nations were wearing incredibly padded clothing on account of being launched at huge objects and currently looked something like the Michelin Man or the Pillsbury Dough Boy. America had been hovering and taking pictures to post on Instagram until Canada had ushered her away so the team could talk strategy.

The other team had assigned Belarus to be their launcher while the other three were wearing their own versions of the Michelin Man outfit. At one point Australia had fallen over, which had caused Netherlands to start laughing at him. However, in his fit of laughter, he wasn't paying attention to what he was doing and ended up tripping on Australia and then fell and nearly rolled down a hill, never to be seen again. America had been kind enough to take pictures and document the incident for Prussia's awesome blog.

Even better news for Prussia had been when Hungary had shown up in a Lakers Girl cheerleading uniform she'd borrowed from America in an effort to cheer Team Awesome to victory. So had Italy, Romana and Liechtenstein, but Switzerland had made his sister cover up by having her put on a parka and a scarf and Romana had gotten so tired of Spain cooing over her that she'd dragged him off to yell at him, although they ended up making out a lot instead.

In any case, Hungary and Italy were both cheering and waving pom-poms while Liechtenstein sweated a lot under the hot Tennessee sun and held up a "BE AWESOME" sign.

"And now we begin with Team One!" South Korea was announcing.

Belarus stepped up to the launcher, which sort of looked like a giant slingshot. She motioned for the first teammate to step up and after a lot of pushing and shoving, Netherlands reluctantly stepped forward. He awkwardly managed to climb into the launcher and curled up into a tight ball as Belarus pulled it back and took her time to aim at the large structure that, like New Jersey had said, resembled a sort of Lincoln Log structure.

Without any warning, Belarus launched Netherlands, but her aim was apparently too high and he went flying off into the distance, his screams growing quieter and quieter as he disappeared into the horizon.

"Shit," Belarus grumbled, irritably motioning for the next teammate to step up. After some more pushing and shoving and quiet arguing, Australia reluctantly stepped forward and took his place on the launcher. Belarus fired him after careful aim and he barely flew, instead skidding across the ground like a little Australian bowling ball made of fluff and ended up skidding to a stop right in front of the structure.

"Looks like things aren't going too well for our lovely cold-hearted nation!" South Korea announced, shaking his head and smiling. "Stepping up next and last is Russia. Hopefully she can at least knock _something_ down!"

Russia was chugging vodka as he stepped up and then got into position. Belarus took several long moments of careful aim and consideration before she launched her beloved brother at the Lincoln Log structure with the utmost care. Russia went flying a bit high, but he managed to knock off some bits from the very top.

"Let's see if Team Awesome is a bit more successful!" South Korea said while Belarus kicked at the ground and stomped off. "Our launcher is the American state of New Jersey!"

"Alright, c'mon guys, I don't have all day," New Jersey said impatiently, placing her hands on her hips. "Let's go."

Japan was shoved forward first and he awkwardly waddled onto the launcher. He curled into a small ball—out of both necessity and fear—and waited.

New Jersey, meanwhile, pulled out her cell phone and checked the screen as she blindly launched Japan through the air. Japan didn't make a sound, but Denmark let out a series of expletives while Prussia shrieked like a girl as Japan went sailing through the air…

And hit the structure right on. A large portion crumbled and Japan rolled to a safe stop. He was sweating and quietly thanking every deity he could think of as he attempted to regulate his heartbeat.

"Next," New Jersey said tiredly, sounding a bit like someone working for the DMV after a particularly long day.

Denmark stepped forward, trying to fake some confidence as he got into position. New Jersey aimed while simultaneously taking a selfie with a "#bored" caption. Denmark was launched through the air, like Japan, and hit another part of the structure, sending a large portion of it crumbling to the ground. Denmark skidded to a halt near Japan and just kind of laid there, barely able to believe he was alive.

Prussia was practically yanked forward when New Jersey grew impatient of his shaking and feet-dragging as he prepared to be launched through the air. New Jersey was aiming when she suddenly paused, distracted by someone nearby.

"Oh! Sicily! Hi!" New Jersey let go of Prussia as she jogged over to the island in question and sent him flying through the air, only to hit the remainder of the structure and land on top of a still-panicking Japan. "You busy?"

"No, I am not!" Sicily said cheerfully, giving her a wink. "How about you?"

"Uh-uh!" New Jersey looped her arm through his and began to tug him away from the crowd. "Wanna go somewhere more private?"

As New Jersey and Sicily wandered off (not before New Jersey Tweeted "gonna go make out with a hottie #sicily #italian #getsome", which both California and Florida favorited) while the other three members of Team Awesome got their bearings and the crowd cheered.

"New Jersey launches her teammates to victory!" South Korea said boisterously. "That brings the games at a tie—Team One has one point and Team Awesome also has a point! Next we have Extreme Golf, but first, let's hear from our sponsor!"

* * *

" _Hej_. I 'm Sweden. C'me to IKEA. We c'n give ya some Sw'dish food 'nd stuff. _Ja_. Do it. _Tack_."

* * *

"This is gonna be great!" Texas said, hopping around a bit as he led Team Awesome toward the golf course. "I always say, sports're fun and explosions're fun, and what's more fun than a sport with explosions?!"

"I like you," Prussia said seriously, patting Texas's shoulder. "You have a bright future."

"Extra bright with all those explosions," Denmark added and Texas puffed up his chest proudly, nodding in agreement.

"When I finally become my own nation, and I _will_ , you two are invited to come blow shit up at my place."

Everyone was gathered around the golf course. Team One had played earlier and had done pretty damn well. Turned out that Australia and Netherlands had proven to be fairly good golfers, although Belarus had no patience for the sport and Russia had more or less just kept swinging really, really hard and didn't understand why America kept calling him 'Happy Gilmore'.

Oh, yeah, also they weren't using golf balls. They were using lit dynamite, all of which had been provided a bit _too_ eagerly by Sweden (that is to say that Sweden smiled a little whenever he lit a bit of dynamite, and the smile came off a bit maniacal, forcing Finland to spend nearly a half hour calming everyone down with assurances that he was _not_ go to blow everything up in a fit of insanity).

Hence why Texas was so eager to play. If there were explosions, he was in. He was also hoping to talk Sweden into letting him purchase some of his dynamite after everything was said and done.

"Players, take your places!" South Korea said cheerfully. Denmark stepped up first and tugged on his collar, none-too-pleased that he would be so close to a stick of lit dynamite for even a few moments.

Sweden placed the dynamite onto the ground and lit it, giving Denmark a creepy smile before he stepped back. Denmark eyed his northern neighbor warily before he eyed the dynamite, as if expecting it to explode at any moment.

"Hit it!" America practically shrieked from where she stood. She didn't like the idea of her baby daddy blowing up in an extreme golf tournament, although Canada looked downright pleased at such a prospect.

Denmark quickly hit the dynamite just in time—it exploded mid-air and Texas let out a happy _whoop_ , swinging his cowboy hat around jovially before remembering that the dynamite exploding prematurely wasn't a good thing. Considering the dynamite wouldn't be able to fit into a normal golf hole, it had been decided that distance and height and aim would dictate the score. Denmark's dynamite hadn't flown up too high or gone out too far, resulting in a lower score.

"Alright, Tiger Voods, my turn," Prussia snapped, shoving Denmark out of the way. However, Prussia suddenly became distracted when he noticed Hungary rummaging around in the 'chesticular area' of her cheerleading uniform. The uniform in question—bright gold and purple, skin-tight and very revealing—had already given him enough distraction when he'd first seen it, but seeing her blatantly shove her hand down her top and feel around her boobs was really doing… _things_ to him. Things down _there_.

"Dude, looks like there's a party in your pants," Denmark said, elbowing him.

Prussia elbowed back, not tearing his eyes off of Hungary as she continued to feel around. "Don't touch me, loser!"

"Aw, there's a party in your pants and I'm not invited. Some friend you are," Denmark whined, giving a mocking pout. He then became quite distracted by America when she stepped forward and asked Hungary something. Hungary then pulled the fabric of her top away from her skin and Denmark almost passed out from blood loss when America reached down Hungary's top and began to rummage around, a look of concentration on her face. "Oh, good God."

"Prussia-san!" Japan suddenly shrieked, pointing at the dynamite Sweden had long ago set down and lit. "The dynamite!"

Prussia let out a shout of surprise and hit the dynamite, sending it flying off into the distance. Well, more like only a few meters away and it promptly exploded, turning Prussia's face red and burning off half of his eyebrows.

"Found it!" America announced, yanking what appeared to be a piece of candy from Hungary's shirt. "Man, it was really lodged in there, huh?"

"Sure was!" Hungary replied pleasantly. Both of them then decided to go buy some more candy from a nearby vendor, none the wiser about what they had just done.

Prussia attempted to find a way to cool down while Denmark busied himself taking pictures of Prussia's face. Japan stepped forward and furrowed his brow in concentration as Sweden set down another stick of dynamite and lit it up. Japan immediately hit the dynamite, sending it flying through the air. It got good distance and height, blowing up well into the sky at a safe distance. Japan smiled victoriously and stepped aside to let Texas take his turn.

When Sweden set down the dynamite and lit it, Texas paused and looked around, smiling as Japan leaned in to watch closely. When Texas still didn't swing after a few long moments, Japan swallowed nervously.

"Are you going to swing, Texas-san?" Japan asked, watching the wick burn down lower and lower.

"Reckon I will," Texas replied easily. He cocked his head to the side and thought something over. "Do you think they serve chili dogs here?"

"…are you going to swing soon, Texas-san?"

"Eh. I guess. Time is all relative, right?"

"…are you going to swing before it explodes, Texas-san?"

"Do you take me for an idiot?!" Texas demanded, giving Japan a _look_. "Next you're gonna accuse me of bein' a liberal!"

"I meant no disrespect," Japan said hurriedly, his face flushing in panic. "I just meant… eh, I am curious about your strategy."

"I see!" Texas eyed the dynamite and nodded. "I'm waitin' until the last second. Adds more tension—"

"Indeed," Japan practically choked.

"— _and_ it's awesome," Texas finished. He finally pulled back the golf club and let out a shout. " _Dance, dynamite, dance_!"

Texas hit the dynamite as hard as he could and Japan gasped as it rocketed into the air and exploded at a pretty impressive distance. Turned out that Texas was nearly as strong as his boss.

" _Yee-haw_!" Texas cheered, pulling two pistols out of who-knew-where to fire them into the air excitedly. " _Don't mess with Texas_!"

Japan managed to get Texas to calm down enough so that they could listen to the results.

"It was pretty damn close," South Korea said, nodding somberly. "That's why we have been forced to call a tie! How exciting! What a nail-biter! Da-ze! Next we have shopping-cart bobsledding! But first, a word from our sponsor!"

* * *

"Hey, Massachusetts here. Wanna know what's the best place on Earth? Better than St. Jude's? Better than the Fourth of July and Thanksgiving and Hanukkah all at once? Better than the White House? DUNKIN' DONUTS! Dunkin' Donuts is _awesome_! Come to Dunkin' Donuts! One doughnut is only a dollar, but you can buy fifty for a nickel! Also, the Yankees suck!"


	39. The Awesome Olympics pt. 3

"This is how it's going to work," Florida said immediately as Denmark, Prussia and Japan all stared warily at the empty Walmart shopping cart. Florida was texting rapidly on his cell phone and didn't bother looking up at them. "You three are going to get into that cart and I'm going to steer us all. And then you'll do as I say without question."

"Vhy vould ve do that?" Prussia asked, pulling a face.

Florida's reactionary bitchface put Prussia's to shame. He glanced up from his phone briefly to make fleeting eye contact. "Excuse me? Who even _are_ you?! Get in the damn cart!"

"Like, you heard him," California said, suddenly coming out of nowhere. She, too, was texting on her phone. "Florida is a shopping _god_. He, like, found these booties for me."

Everyone then looked down at a pair of what looked like alligator-skin heels.

"It's _faux_ -alligator skin," California clarified, smiling down at her feet before returning to her cell. "I don't believe in animal cruelty. Well, like, unless the animal is gross, like a snake, or something that, like, decides to come into my house, like this one bat that one time came into my house and, funny enough, I killed it with a baseball bat. Go figure."

"So gross," Florida agreed. "By the way, loving the Facebook status about this conversation."

"Loving your live Tweeting of this conversation!" California replied. "New Jersey just uploaded a Vine of her and Sicily and it is totes adorbs."

"Right?!"

"Oh, God, I want to punch them both a little bit," Prussia grumbled. Denmark loved America to death, but he gave a small nod in agreement while Japan just awkwardly looked away, unwilling to participate in a possible confrontation. "But I can't because ve need Florida for this next event."

"The event is starting now," Japan said, eyeing the shopping cart again with some disdain. "Must we get in?"

"We'll go biggest to smallest," Florida said, finally pocketing his phone while California strutted off. "Denmark is on the bottom."

"I'm not even going to comment on that," Prussia snickered. "Actually, I am."

"No, you're not," Denmark said. "Because in the scenario you're talking about, I top."

"Ya'll are a bunch of basic bitches," Florida said, rolling his eyes. "There's nothing unmanly about taking it up the—"

"Perhaps we should get ready for the event," Japan blurted, his cheeks bright red.

Denmark grumbled as he climbed into the shopping cart and grunted unhappily when Prussia climbed on top of him, basically very awkwardly sitting in his lap. Japan then gingerly climbed on top of Prussia and looked significantly more uncomfortable than Denmark and Prussia combined.

"Aw, look at the cuddlebugs!" America said as she neared, yanking out her cell phone. "Say cheese! Or don't, I'm gonna take a picture anyway."

"What makes Florida qualified for this, anyvay?" Prussia questioned, still shifting uncomfortably as America snapped picture after picture.

"Duh," Florida said, rolling his eyes. "I was the cart pushing state champion last year and the year before that. And I broke a record writing to congress about making muffin tops illegal _and_ I hold a record for this competition that was called 'sea urchin pants' where people drop sea urchins down their pants and see who can withstand the pain the longest."

"That wasn't an actual competition," America suddenly said, shaking her head quickly. "He just decided to drop a sea urchin down his pants one day and called it a competition."

"Well, that's your version of the story," Florida replied a bit tightly.

"No, it's the real version."

Florida laughed. "We can just agree to disagree."

Everyone just stared at Florida and Florida stared back, smiling a bit, his eyes a bit glazed over and out of it. He then gave an awkward salute and turned his attention back to his cell phone.

In the other shopping cart, Russia was on the bottom with Belarus clinging to him happily. Australia sat on top and Netherlands was prepared to push and steer the shopping cart.

"This is a stupid event," Netherlands was complaining. "If I weren't high right now I'd just eat a pizza and take a nap instead of doing this. Wait…" He paused and frowned. "No, I'm going to eat a pizza and take a nap instead."

Netherlands turned and began to walk off, but Canada suddenly came out of nowhere, a look of pure evil and anger on his face.

"I _know_ you wouldn't just _give up_ on this," Canada said lowly. "I don't want to hear some mysterious story aboot you _disappearing_ in some kind of snowstorm. Hopefully you wouldn't disappear in _my_ country, either. No one would even _think_ to look for you there."

Netherlands blanched and then quickly walked over to the cart and got them all to the starting line. Canada relaxed a bit and then went to look for America, who had found a Carl's Jr. and demanded they sell her all their fries.

The two teams took their places at the starting line with Florida spending the entire time catching Denmark, Prussia and Japan up on the latest celebrity gossip.

"I have a subscription to Perez Hilton," Florida was saying. "For _free_. I guess you could say I'm kind of a big deal around here."

"Well, you are the champion of sea urchin pants," Denmark conceded dryly.

South Korea then began to make his announcements, causing everyone to fall silent.

"Our next event begins now!" he was saying. "Florida will be taking on Netherlands in a bobsled-shopping-cart race against time! The hills have been designed to replicate that of a twisting aisle of a store! Hopefully no one gets _distracted_. Now, racers, take your positions!"

Florida and Netherlands did as instructed. Florida looked like he was caught somewhere between mildly bored and completely disinterested while Netherlands just looked like he wanted a nap.

"Ready… on your marks… get set…" South Korea smirked. "Three…two…one… one and a half…"

"Oh, no, not this bullshit," America suddenly snipped. She yanked the microphone out of his hands and shrieked, "RUN, BITCH, RUN!"

Florida and Netherlands rocketed out of the starting line and America tossed the microphone back at South Korea. He caught it and pouted but said nothing, knowing full well that he didn't want to be the guy that yelled at the pregnant lady who was currently using a George Foreman grill to force her servant boy to make bacon-wrapped bacon, which was exactly what it sounded like.

At first, things went smoothly. The hill was fairly steep and the aisles twisted and turned a bit, but Florida was handling it just fine. That is, until the aisles were suddenly filled with things. Things that Florida apparently wanted.

"Oh, my god," he whined as they zoomed past another brightly colored polo shirt, "I have been looking for that shade of green for _forever_. Shit, I should just go back—"

"Don't you fucking dare," Prussia huffed, angrily getting Japan's elbow out of his face. "I von't stand for losing this race and I von't stand for spending another minute vith Japan crushing mein awesome balls vith his unawesome boney ass."

"That was rude," Japan said, his own usual good manners long gone, all things considered. "Perhaps you should consider keeping your mouth shut for the remainder of this event. With the utmost respect, of course."

"Ugh, I _really_ want that polo shirt—"

"If you just keep going I'll buy you fifty fucking polo shirts!" Denmark shouted. If Prussia and Japan were having a rough time, Denmark was in a nightmare hellscape. Prussia kept squirming and crushing him. Not only that, he kept getting a mouthful of Prussia's hair and it was seriously gross. He was never meant to be so close to Prussia, ever.

"Yeah, but not in _that_ shade of green," Florida whined. "Oh, jeez. I need advice."

Florida then very suddenly hopped off the cart and landed gracefully on his feet, bringing his phone out of his pocket to Tweet "finally found cute green polo i was looking 4 but could make me lose game :( #tobuy #ornottobuy", which caused New Jersey to respond with a simple "is that even a question?! #followyourheart".

Meanwhile, the cart promptly smashed into one of the aisles, causing the three countries to go flying out and land on the ground painfully.

"It's settled then!" Florida grinned and pocketed his phone before he walked over to the mess he had caused. He then sighed. "Okay, who broke the shopping cart? I have some stuff I need to pick up and these hands were _not_ made for difficult manual labor."

The three countries peered at him furiously. And that's why they all burned Florida's special green polo shirt once South Korea announced Team One's victory. And then they dropped a sea urchin down his pants.

* * *

"Hey there, guys! I'm Ontario! I'm part of Canada. I'm _not_ American. I. Am. _Canadian_. From _Canada_. It's _different_. It is. And I'd like you guys to try some Tim Horton's, eh? It's the most Canadian place in the universe! We have doughnuts and nice people and hockey and more doughnuts! Hope to see ya there!"

* * *

"To celebrate playing the super-duper fun and terribly violent game of hockey, I made us all some Bundt cake!" Minnesota said cheerfully, thrusting a Bundt cake covered in icing and strawberries at them. "If you guys want more after that I have some pop, honeycrisp apples and puppy chow in my duffel. Help yourself!"

"Thanks…" Denmark accepted the Bundt cake and they all watched Minnesota excuse herself to get some coffee. He then turned to look at the others. "What are the chances that she's not actually nice and she's really a serial killer who poisoned the Bundt cake?"

"Who, Minnie?" A state they recognized as Wisconsin was nearby, munching on a block of cheese. "Nah, she's harmless. Well, unless you're me, in which case she will attempt to have Congress pass a bill to put a heavily-guarded fence around my state and use it as a giant prison for the whole nation because my state is, and I quote, 'the ninth circle of Hell, but worse because it is filled with Packers fans'."

"Ouch," Prussia commented. He eyed the Bundt cake. On one hand, he probably didn't need to eat it. On the other hand, it looked delicious and he wanted to eat it. He decided to eat it.

"Eh, it's fine." Wisconsin shrugged. "At least I'm not one of those cold Nordic people that are scared of hugs, can't win a Super Bowl and elect comedians and former wrestlers into political office."

"There is that…" Denmark agreed as Prussia inhaled the Bundt cake.

"Yeah, it helps me sleep at night." Wisconsin stood up and gave them a mock salute. "Later, guys. I've got a Badgers jersey to put on and a block of cheese to place on my head before I can watch the game."

The moment he left, Minnesota appeared, still smiling. She then paused and frowned, giving the air a sniff.

"It smells like old cheese and evil," she mumbled. "Gross, Wisconsin was here, wasn't he?"

"He seemed pretty nice," Japan said conversationally, taking a piece of Bundt cake. He then paled when Minnesota turned to glare at him with the force of a thousand angry suns. "I mean… uh…"

Minnesota suddenly dropped the glare and gave him a strained smile. "Well, that's one opinion. Anyway, the pinball hockey game is starting soon, yah know, and the Boss asked me to get all of you on the ice."

After some last minute adjusting of their skates and uniforms, they all made their way toward the rink. Minnesota talked their ears off the whole way.

"And _I'm_ saying duck-duck-gray duck is _way_ better than duck-duck-goose. Because with duck-duck-gray duck you can have fun with it, yah know? Like, 'blue duck, orange duck, smelly duck, yellow duck, green duck, plaid duck, _GRAY DUCK_!' See? See what I mean?"

" _Ja_ , definitely," Prussia said, barely paying attention.

Minnesota didn't seem to notice, though, and just kept smiling. "So who're we playing?"

"Netherlands, Australia, Russia and Belarus," Prussia replied. "Russia is their best player by far, but Belarus isn't so bad herself. Netherlands and Australia play field hockey mostly, but hopefully the ice will trip them up."

"Russia's gonna be here?" Minnesota chirped, her face lighting up. "Damn! I haven't seen him since 1980! I'minna go say hey!"

They were at the rink by this point and Minnesota quickly located the tall, chilly nation in question. She skated over to where he was warming up with Belarus and tapped on his shoulder.

The reaction was downright hilarious. Russia turned, a look of annoyance on his face that quickly morphed to sheer terror when he spied her. Russia animatedly stumbled and slipped on the ice. When Minnesota attempted to help him up, concern all over her face, he scooted away from her, shaking his head over and over again.

"Vhat the hell?" Prussia exchanged looks with Japan and Denmark. "Vhat's happening right now?"

"Oh, yeah." America suddenly looped an arm around Denmark's shoulders and sighed. "Back in 1980, Minnesota was on my hockey team. She basically led the American victory against the Soviets in a little thing we like to call 'the Miracle on Ice'. So, in conclusion, in Soviet Russia, there were two horror movies parents didn't let their kids watch: _Nightmare on Elm Street_ and _Miracle_. I'm pretty sure she still stars in his nightmares."

"Her? But she's so nice!" Denmark gave America a look of disbelief. "She gave us Bundt cake!"

"Believe what you want," America said easily. "I just wanted to say good luck and if you don't win, you guys aren't my friends anymore. Ta-ta!"

The teams got situated and the game began. The rink was set up like any normal hockey rink, save for each goal being guarded by two large black flippers in front of each one. Large circular structures were on the ice here and there, and Nevada, who had built the thing, explained that if anyone were to bump into it, or if the puck should hit it, the "target", as he had called it, would cause whatever touched it to go flying off. He made an example by grabbing New Hampshire, who stood nearby, and shoved him at it. The itty bitty state stumbled into the target and then was sent flying away from it, skidding clumsily on the ice before he smashed head-first into the ice.

The game began after that terrifying demonstration. It immediately began with Australia falling over and Japan just kind of eyeing a target nervously, stiff as a board, too terrified to move lest he get run over by Russia and Belarus, both of whom were skating around like a pair of bloodthirsty sharks on ice.

As Denmark suspected, Minnesota seemed a bit too nice for hockey. Well, for the first two minutes, anyway. That changed Netherlands made the mistake of stumbling into a target and was careened into Minnesota's path, knocking into her _hard_. The crowd grew quiet as Minnesota threw down her hockey stick and then lunged at him, wrestled him to the ground and then proceeded to rip his helmet off and then smash his face right into the ice.

There was a beat before everyone began to cheer and shriek, applauding and wincing as Netherlands stood back up, wiping a bloody nose. Minnesota was immediately issued a penalty; she didn't seem to care much and flipped off the referee as she skated into the penalty box.

"Okay then…" Denmark exchanged looks with Japan and Prussia. "Let's, uh, let's do this."

* * *

Once they hit halftime and found that Team One was ahead by a hair, Minnesota immediately flipped off the nice switch once she got them alone in the locker room.

"Look, you sad clowns," she snapped, leveling her hockey stick at the three of them threateningly. "I just wanna say that it's taking all my willpower not to shove this hockey stick so far up your asses that it comes outta your mouth! My _boyfriend_ is out there watching and you are _embarrassing_ me! My boyfriend is _Ontario_. He is _the best_ at hockey! Hockey games are what brought us together, and if we don't win this, what'll he think?! He'll doubt my skills 'til Lake Superior warms up, which it never does, _just so ya know_!" Minnesota paused and took a deep breath, appearing to calm down a bit, embarrassed by her behavior.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be mean. All I'm _saying_ is that you can all do better than you're doing. So I'minna tell you what I tell everyone in my state who whines about the cold in the dead of January: shape up or go to Iowa, bitches!"

With that, Minnesota shouted at them like a drill sergeant to get up and get back out there. The 'or else' was implied.

The second half of the game went over much differently. Being threatened with a hockey stick up the ass did wonders for determination. Denmark wasn't exactly terrible at hockey in the first place and managed to get a few good hits in. Japan, as it turned out, wasn't so bad, either. Prussia was too easily distracted to do much other than skate forward a few inches and then fall over or just scoot around while holding onto the wall.

Long story short, they won the game. It took some work and required Prussia to sacrifice himself by throwing his body in the way of Belarus, who had attempted to come to Russia's aid when Minnesota basically cornered him and reveled in making him mess up royally.

"We did it!" Minnesota cheered when the game was called, quick to smack Russia in the legs with her hockey stick. He fell over, utterly defeated, the experience sure to give him a fresh bout of nightmares.

"And by 'we' you mean 'you' and by 'it' you mean 'everything', eh?" A guy that seemed vaguely familiar said, waving at them cheerfully. He was eating what appeared to be a doughnut and was holding a cup of coffee in the other hand, offering it to Minnesota. He wore a blue sweater with _Toronto Maple Leafs_ on the chest in the middle of a white leaf.

"Ontario!" Minnesota said, suddenly bashful. "Oh, jeez. We just did our best, yah know?"

As Denmark, Prussia and Japan all attempted to leave to prepare for the next event, they found themselves cornered by Minnesota gain, who kept talking and talking and talking, repeatedly saying goodbye, but carrying on the conversation at the same time. Half an hour later, Ontario spotted Montreal and headed off to go harass him, causing Minnesota to hurry after him.

Japan suddenly let out a big sigh of relief and shook his head. "That was tiresome. She's more polite than _I_ am. Except for that nightmare scene in the locker room."

"Yeah, some people take hockey _way_ too seriously, huh?" Prussia said. Unfortunately he said that as he passed by Ontario, Montreal and Minnesota, all three of whom turned to glare at him until they ran off.

"We should hide," Denmark suggested. They all hurried off, hopefully before the hockey nuts decided to make good on Minnesota's stick-up-the-ass threat.

* * *

"Ah, _bon jour_ , it is I, zee nation of love, France! Do you love art? Do you love feeling better than everyone else? Do you love being able to make out in public with your _amour_ without judgment? Paris is zee place for art enthusiasts! For zee elite! For _lovers_! You should, how do you say, come to my country and spend lots of zee money here! _Au revoir_ and see you soon!"

* * *

Hawaii was a pretty chill guy. Of course, he had his faults, like insisting on putting a lei on everyone gathered, carrying around a large surfboard everywhere he went and talking incessantly about volcanoes. But overall, he was pretty cool.

"You're pretty cool," Prussia commented as they all stepped out in their wetsuits, carrying surfboards toward the giant slip-n-slide that was stretched across the stadium.

Hawaii grinned. " _Mahalo_ , friend! You, too, are also cool. Almost as cool as Spam."

Prussia frowned, not quite sure how to take that compliment as Hawaii whistled cheerfully to himself and winked at a group of gathered provinces, territories and states who appeared to be waiting for him with baited breath. A lot of excited screaming could be heard as Hawaii gave a small wave and then kept walking, apparently uncaring of all the attention, female or male, that he was getting.

"Who vould have guessed this guy vas a Casanova?" Prussia asked. "Although he doesn't seem very interested in the attention."

Japan gave a small shrug. "Last I heard he was dating Okinawa-chan. Perhaps he is disinterested in anyone else."

"Really?" Prussia asked, interest peaked. "She hot?"

Japan gave Prussia a dirty look and then hurried to catch up with Hawaii, who had been suddenly accosted by a few more "fangirls" that asked him if they could get his autograph.

"And now it's time for Slip-'N-Slide surfing!" South Korea announced. A giant bright blue Slip-'N-Slide stretched across a large field, huge torrents of water shooting out to make the long train of plastic nice and slippery. "Team Awesome will go first! Good luck, guys!"

Prussia had been distracted, flexing in what he thought was a manly fashion for Hungary, who laughed and cheered him on. However, Denmark shoved him towards the Slip-'N-Slide.

"Hang on, I have to put on my sunblock!" Prussia sputtered, motioning for a time-out. America and Canada exchanged looks before they decided to allow it when America pointed out that Prussia got sunburned while he was inside his own house… at night.

"I can't reach my back," Prussia said after spending a good several minutes rubbing his sunblock on, flexing some more while Hungary watched and took pictures. "Lizzie?"

Hungary quickly raced over and began to slather his back with a thick layer of sunblock, all the while laughing whenever Prussia would flex or brag about how awesome he was going to be.

"Can we get a move on?" Netherlands asked. He and Denmark had begun to play rock-paper-scissors out of boredom. "Not that I dislike watching Hungary dump sunblock on the albino, but…"

"Actually, that's exactly what it is," Denmark finished. "We really hate watching that."

"Vhatever, losers. You're just jealous that you don't have a hot babe to put sunblock on you." Prussia smiled, flexed one last time and then grabbed his surfboard.

America, who had been sitting by Denmark, gave her friend a look. "Why would I put sunblock Mathias? He has two arms that aren't broken. He can put it on himself."

"I find it's a good excuse to just keep touching Gilbert's muscles," Hungary replied. America thought that one over for a few long moments before she pinned Denmark down and began to attack him with the sunblock.

"Alright, losers, watch a real pro!" Prussia posed one last time at the Slip-'N-Slide, tossed his surfboard down on the top and then stepped on it…

And then he slipped, spun around a few times and face-planted in the grass like he was cartoon character.

Hungary hurriedly rushed forward and drag her dazed boyfriend off the Slip-'N-Slide. He disappeared into the locker room with her, definitely out of it.

"Alright… uh…" South Korea grimaced. "That was pathetic, let's all just admit it. But nice flexing. Da-ze! Next up we have Denmark!"

America, who still had Denmark pinned down (not that he was complaining), had to climb out from under her and stood up, revealing that America had covered him with so much sunblock that he was whiter than Prussia.

"Ah, jeez," Denmark said, looking down at himself. "Mia, really?"

America shrugged. "You kind of look like Abominable. You know, from that Rudolph Claymation?"

"Yeah, thanks." Denmark huffed and grabbed his board, heading over to the Slip-'N-Slide.

America seemed a bit confused as she looked up at Canada, who was insanely amused. "I meant that as a compliment, though."

Denmark wasn't ashamed to admit that surfing wasn't exactly his strong suit. He just didn't have a lot of time to do so. But the fact that he knew this was Australia's forte made him determined to at least make it halfway down the Slip-'N-Slide.

Or, at least not fall on his face like an asshole like Prussia had.

"Good luck, mate," Australia said from nearby, causing Denmark to turn and glare at him. "Nice look, by the way."

"Thank you," Denmark ground out dryly. He tossed his board down and angrily jumped on.

He managed to make it about five feet before he wiped out. America ended up carrying him off bridal-style to make sure he was alright and to apply more sunscreen.

"A less-than-stellar beginning for Team Awesome," South Korea said, shaking his head a bit. "Hopefully Japan can turn things around!"

Japan wasn't a surfing savant like Australia and Hawaii, but he could certainly hold his own. He stepped forward calmly, smiling a bit as South Korea gave him a thumbs-up.

Japan didn't bother doing anything too fancy, but he did make it to the end of the Slip-'N-Slide unscathed. A few tricks here and there, nothing too flashy, and he calmly stepped off, smiling and nodding his head at the applause.

"Not bad at all! Now for Hawaii!"

However, Hawaii was nowhere to be found. Turned out that at some point, he had gone to get a quick drink of water, and that was where the fangirls had found him. At first it had been manageable—two fangirls who had shyly asked for an autograph. Hawaii, being the nice guy he was, gave them each an autograph and a lei before sending them off with well wishes. Then _four_ other fangirls had showed up, followed by eight more, and then he had suddenly been flooded with shrieking fans.

Hawaii was definitely a looker, he wasn't going to deny that. It was flattering being appreciated for his good looks and surfing talent. But this was just terrifying.

He was found hiding in a closet amidst a crowd of shrieking fangirls. Unfortunately he had been found by Taiwan, who had quickly succumbed to his handsomeness and attempted to smuggle him away so she could have him all to herself. Luckily, though, Puerto Rico had been shoving his way through the throng of shrieking fangirls and saw what was going on. Not one to just leave a friend at the clutches of a half-crazed woman, Puerto Rico managed to wrestle him away and hurried off to the competition to get his friend there on time.

Hawaii arrived, disheveled with a group of screaming fans coming after him, but he arrived. Security was quickly called in, keeping the hordes of girls back as Hawaii grabbed his board, thanked Puerto Rico, whipped his hair around like a stud and then made his way over to the Slip-'N-Slide.

Before he began, however, he turned and winked at the crowd, who screamed enthusiastically in response. "I want to dedicate this to my girlfriend, Okinawa!" Hawaii then blew and kiss and got ready to go.

Meanwhile, Okinawa blushed from where she stood in the crowd. All the fangirls turned to stare at her with wide eyes.

"Wow! You're so lucky!" Seychelles said, giving Okinawa two thumbs up.

At the exact same time, Sydney gave Okinawa a nasty look. "I'm going to _kill_ you."

Okinawa quite suddenly looked terrified and quickly let Japan get her out of the crowd for her own safety, apparently.

Meanwhile, Hawaii threw down his surfboard and closed his eyes, getting "into the zone". After a few long, anxious moments of silence, he jumped onto the board and did his thing.

His thing, however, was not surfing. It was _art_ , pure art. He intricately weaved and spun around in such a graceful manner that he would make the world's best ballerinas feel like clumsy oafs. The audience shrieked and cheered and cried and felt just so many feelings.

Once Hawaii got off his board and turned to grin at the crowd, he found South Korea standing nearby, dabbing tears from his cheeks.

"That was _beautiful_ ," he said, sniffling a bit. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect! If you didn't like that, you are probably evil incarnate."

" _Mahalo_!" Hawaii grinned, easygoing as always, and threw an arm around his girlfriend before they both decided to go get something to eat real quick. Of course, his pack of ravenous fans followed after him, prepared to strike when they found an opening.

"Now for the probably-going-to-be-disappointing Team One," South Korea said dryly. "Good luck following up after that."

As everyone suspected, Team One wasn't so good at first. Belarus refused to participate for reasons she refused to clarify, though America seemed to think that it was probably because Belarus, like the Wicked Witch of the West, would disintegrate when she came into contact with water. This theory was accepted as fact fairly quickly.

Russia at least attempted, but he was still pretty shaken from the hockey encounter and ended up pulling a Prussia, minus the flexing and ass-face comments.

Netherlands, as it turned out, was actually pretty decent, more or less because he spent a decent amount of time with Jamaica, mostly smoking weed, but also surfing now and again.

It looked like Team Awesome would definitely win until Australia stepped forward. He threw his board down with flourish and hopped on without hesitation.

If what Hawaii had made was art, what Australia had done was no less. It was like watching Picasso paint the hands of the peasants. It was downright breathtaking. "Oohs" and "Aahs" abounded from the onlookers and when Australia was finished he winked and posed proudly.

"Well, I do not feel bad for whoever has to choose the winner for this round!" South Korea chortled, shaking his head. "What a difficult decision! How will it be decided?!"

As it turned out, the judges became so stressed out having to choose between Hawaii and Australia that they ended up giving up and quitting with dramatic flourish.

"Well, uh…" South Korea was definitely at a loss. "I guess… it's a tie? Yeah. A tie. Da-ze! How insane! This brings Team One to two points and Team Awesome to two points! A tie! The tiebreaker will come next with Ultimate Beer Chugging featuring North Dakota! Stay tuned, sports fans!

* * *

"Hi there! It's me, Washington! Now I know you all know me as that state with all the sparkly vampires and the fangirls, but I promise, we took care of _both_ those infestations. Come to Washington! It's safe to be here now!"


	40. The Awesome Olympics pt. 4

The final event was being set up, which meant Denmark had to go off and make sure everything was ready to go while America was busy very obviously attempting not to cry.

"No, no, you should go," America was sniffling. Denmark kept looking at her and then up at Molossia, who was busy pretending to be very interested in his shoes and was slowly but surely wandering farther and farther away from them. "Go make me proud. Out-drink that Russian bastard."

"I really don't feel comfortable leaving you alone when you're crying, Mia," Denmark replied. He gulped when she glared at him, obviously not liking that he was "accusing" her of crying. "I mean, when you're upset. I don't like leaving you when you're upset. I'm sure the water coming from your eyes is from the rain."

It wasn't raining.

"Probably," America muttered before she started to push him away. "Go, go. Seriously. Go win and then I won't have to be upset anymore. Enjoy the beer that I can't enjoy for the next handful of months. Do it for me, Denny."

Denmark still wasn't very comfortable with it, but Prussia was starting to text him incessantly, demanding to know where he was and if he was planning on doing the event at all or if he should start looking for someone willing to down several kegs of beer.

Then Denmark spotted Sweden wandering by eating a cinnamon bun. Sure, Sweden wasn't a perfect candidate to comfort his emotionally erratic girlfriend, but he was sure as fuck better than Iceland, or, God forbid, Norway. If America dared to complain about cravings or soreness he'd probably break her finger just to "get her mind off it".

He waved Sweden down and the giant nation came over, finishing up his cinnamon bun before stopping in front of them. " _Ja_?"

"So, look," Denmark said hurriedly, "I need a favor."

" _Ja_?"

"Mia's kind of… well, emotional right now and I told her I was going to skip the final event to make sure she was alright, but she won't even consider it." Denmark yanked on his spiky hair, giving his brother a pleading look. " _Please_ , Waldo, I'll never ask for anything ever again!"

Sweden eyed Denmark and huffed. "Ya know how I feel 'bout bein' call'd 'W'ldo', Dan."

" _Okej_ , how about this: I don't call you Waldo and you spend some time with America?" Denmark gave Sweden a thumbs up, but Sve seemed largely unimpressed. "How about I also throw in a truckload of cinnamon buns? For free, of course."

Sweden thought it over. " _Två_."

"Two truckloads?" Denmark sighed and nodded wearily. "Fine, fine, two truckloads of free cinnamon buns. Please stick around and keep an eye on America?"

" _Okej_."

Denmark gave his brother an appreciative punch in the arm. "Thanks, bro! That makes me feel a lot better! Hang on, let me go tell Mia!"

In a matter of five minutes, Prussia had come to yank Denmark away for the actual competition, leaving America and Sweden standing there, America on the verge of some kind of hormonal breakdown and Sweden eyeing her silently. Finally, America turned to look at him, waiting expectantly. Realizing she was obviously waiting for something, Sweden reached into one of the massive pockets of his coat and somehow pulled out a plate of steaming hot meatballs.

" _Köttbullar_?" he offered.

"You carry meatballs around in your coat?" America asked, her emotional crisis forgotten suddenly as Sweden nodded. She linked arms with him and grinned. "I think you and I will get along just fine, blondie. I usually carry around a sirloin steak, just in case."

Sweden nodded, as if this made perfect sense, and then they went to go watch the final event.

* * *

North Dakota was not a state of many words. That was for his twin, South Dakota, who incessantly rambled while North Dakota just sort of nodded and grunted ever so often.

"And wouldn't you believe it that while we were gardening North saw a bee? Well, he just about lost his mind he was so scared! I said, 'North', this is what I said, 'North, it's just a bee, it won't hurt you.' Well, he didn't wanna listen to little old me!" South Dakota laughed. "He was nearly inconsolable about the whole thing!"

Denmark, Prussia and Japan all looked at North Dakota, who stood there stoically. All of them had a hard time believing he had panicked over a bumblebee. Or over anything, really.

"And then there was the time we were on a hike through… oh, where were we, North?" South Dakota looked at North Dakota, who simply grunted in reply. South Dakota snapped her fingers and grinned. "That's right! Thanks for reminding me, North! We were in the Badlands when we saw a sleeping rattler! 'North', I said, this is what I said to him, I said, 'North, you had better not go anywhere near that rattler, I don't care if it's asleep, you don't go near it! Don't you dare!' Well, wouldn't you know it, he tried to _touch_ it? When I explicitly told him _not_ to? Of course, the thing woke up and North ran to the car like the devil himself was chasing him! Which, now that I think of it, is _really_ symbolic, you know, Satan and snakes and all that. Did you make that connection before, North? I sure didn't! Oh, now what a scary thought! Look, North, look! I have goosebumps! Just feel!"

North Dakota, predictably, grunted in reply.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Gather round for the final event!" South Korea said excitedly. The teams took their seats, Team Awesome a bit more hurriedly to get away from South Dakota, who was trying to make them feel her goosebumps.

"So how do you handle living with _her_?" Prussia asked, honestly curious. He was also thanking his lucky stars and Hungary knew when to clam up and didn't chase people around to make them feel her goosebumps. She just obsessed over gay manga and hit people with frying pans, which was _way_ more normal.

North Dakota glanced at Prussia and then gestured to the massive amount of alcohol that was being brought in. Prussia nodded and clapped him on the back.

The two teams were sitting at two different tables facing each other. A few states brought out mugs filled with beer. Prussia and Denmark eyed the beer with suspicion, suddenly realizing that this could very well be dreaded _American_ beer.

"Vhat brand is this… you?" Prussia demanded none-too-politely to the state handing him his beer. He was watching the event with some distaste and wore a t-shirt that read ' _Latter Day Saints_ ' on the front.

The state harrumphed. "I'm _Utah_ , not 'you'. And I don't like alcohol very much, so I don't know. I'm just here to sober cab Nevada. If you really want to know, ask New Hampshire or Montana or something."

Utah then walked off and Prussia huffed.

Meanwhile, Denmark decided to be a bit nicer about his approach. He smiled at the state that handed him his mugs and the state gave him a very friendly smile in return.

"Hello, there… uh…" He gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I'm so bad with names."

"It's fine! I'm Illinois. You know, home of the windy city! I'm kind of like the _leader_ of the Midwest, so North really looks up to me. Don't you, North?"

North Dakota gave Illinois a dubious look as if to say _what the fuck kind of bullshit are you spouting_?

"'Leader' of the Midwest?" another state nearby asked, scoffing. She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "I don't remember voting for you!"

"Who cares what you have to say?" Illinois snipped. " _Glee_ takes place in your state!"

The state—Ohio—turned bright red and mumbled about Illinois making a "low blow" before Nebraska, who had been standing nearby, patted her shoulder and offered to buy her something at the food stand.

"I actually have a question," Denmark said, hoping he hadn't just ignited some kind of fight. Illinois gave him another big smile. "What kind of beer is this?"

"Oh, yeah, bosslady went way out of her way for this stuff!" Illinois said cheerfully. "She had Ireland and Scotland make all this themselves! And get this—Scotland said he didn't even want to be paid money! He wanted to be paid in _kilts_!"

She then burst into a peal of laughter and walked off, leaving Denmark and Prussia behind looking relieved. Denmark loved America, he did, but her taste in beer was _awful_. He'd forced himself to down so much nasty Budweiser that he had nightmares about it.

Thankfully, Ireland and Scotland knew what they were doing in the alcohol department, which put those fears to rest. Hopefully this competition would be a bit easier to pass now.

Even Denmark was willing to admit that Russia was a formidable competitor in this event. Denmark often went drinking with Netherlands and knew the guy was pretty good at handling his own. Belarus was related to Russia and no doubt was good with alcohol. Australia hopefully got an intolerance of beer from England.

Everyone seemed ready and South Korea got on his microphone.

"Everyone, we are now entering the final event! The teams are tied and it's all down to _this_! North Dakota has joined Team Awesome for this event, and the beer has been provided courtesy of Ireland and Scotland."

There was a lot of profane victory shouting coming from the already-inebriated nations in question, causing England to groan and walk over to slap his stupid brothers silly for their display of public intoxication.

"Before we begin, a word from our sponsor!"

* * *

"Hello there, everyone, it's me. Rhode Island. You all probably know me as the smallest state in the country. I'm not here to sell anything, I'm here to put an end to all your stupid short jokes! I mean, there's more to me than my height guys! I was the first state to declare independence from England! I was the first state to ban slavery! _Family Guy_ takes place in my state, guys! Seriously, knock it off with the short jokes or else I'll freak out. Don't test me, I swear to God, I will freak the fuck out. I'll do it."

* * *

America and Sweden were watching the competition nearby, both of them eating meatballs with lingonberry sauce. America was busy talking nonstop: at first she had been talking about her favorite scent of Yankee Candle and now they were somehow on the topic of whether or not blue cotton candy tasted better than pink cotton candy.

"Iggy says they all taste the same and it's just the sugar that's been colored differently, but I can't buy into that," America was saying while Sweden nodded beside her. "I mean, why _else_ would they call it 'Blue Raspberry' flavored? And since when are raspberries blue? Once, I ate a piece of popcorn that wasn't blue, it was orange and I remember thinking to myself before I ate it that it looked a lot like a Cheeto, and guess what? It _was_ a Cheeto! So that's why it looked like a Cheeto."

"Mhm."

They fell into an awkward silence. Well, awkward for America. For Sweden, the silence was perfectly comfortable.

"So the reason I was upset earlier was because my cravings are kind of weird, I think," she burst. Sweden glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, normal pregnant people want, like, junk food, right? Like doughnuts and pizza and chips and stuff, right?"

" _Ja_ , I 'spose."

"Well, all I want to eat are cucumbers and green peppers and _chard_. That's right, glasses, _chard_. Do you know how nasty chard is? It's like jacked-up kale, and kale is _already_ fucking nasty as sin."

"Hm."

"Seriously, I ate a hamburger the other day and I _vomited_. Some of the stuff I've been craving are fine, like coconut milk and pineapple, but seriously, the other day I almost ate watercress. _Watercress_. Without any bacon, even! Watercress is the most boring vegetable of all vegetables _ever_. It's like some bad idea guy surrounded by nothing but yes men went into a board meeting and said, 'Hey, you know what we should do? We should make a vegetable even nastier than an asparagus!'"

Sweden's mouth quirked into a tiny smile and America was suddenly overcome with unpredictable emotion again.

"Oh, Berwald!" she cried. "Can I call you Berwald? Uncle Berwald? Pappa Ber? Or… erm, Ber? Waldy?"

Sweden shrugged. "Berwald's fine."

"Oh, Pappa Ber!" she said, grabbing him and yanking him in for a hug. Sweden suddenly looked panicked, as if he wanted to die right on the spot. "You're so nice, listening to me! Most people would have cut me off or told me to stop talking or something, but not you! You even gave me meatballs! _Meatballs_!"

America didn't seem to realize it, but she kept squeezing tighter and tighter. Sweden _would_ have fought to get away, but he didn't think fighting off a pregnant lady was a good idea. He saw Norway watching them, but of course the bastard didn't bother helping and instead snapped some pictures.

"I remember when I was a kid I thought you were so scary!" America was babbling. "But you're the sweetest person _ever_ with your meatballs and your… your… coat! Daw, I'm so happy we got to spend today together! Aren't you? … Um… Pappa Ber?"

She let go and Sweden stumbled a bit, his vision mostly blacked out by that point as he sat down on the grass.

"Oh, jeez, not that again!" America said, motioning for some water. "Sorry! I can't tell you how many times I've had to resuscitate Mattie and Iggy and Mathias because of this!"

America kept panicking a bit as Sweden calmly reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of Swedish Fish. He smiled and popped a few in his mouth, immediately looking better. America fell silent and Sweden offered her the bag. She sadly shook her head and reached into her cleavage to yank out a stick of celery. The two ate in mutual silence, watching the event begin.

* * *

Australia passed out first. It was within the first five minutes and he had keeled over in his seat and landed face-first on the ground. Denmark had barely been able to suppress a cheer and Prussia had stood up and pointed at the fallen rival, letting out an obnoxious, "HAHAHAHA LOSER!" before someone told him to sit down and keep drinking while one of the states escorted Australia out.

About twenty minutes in, Japan, without warning, suddenly turned and vomited before he, too, passed out. Denmark had to admit he was a bit surprised. Honestly, he had thought North Dakota would be the first to go on their side, but the guy just kept chugging his beer and motioning for more while South Dakota keep cheering loudly from the sidelines.

"I _told_ him he'd do well!" she was blabbering to Oregon, who was obviously looking for a way out. "I said to him, I said, 'North, you're going to lead them to victory!' Oh, he didn't believe me, got a little teary-eyed and stressed out about it, but I told him he could do it and now look! He's doing great!"

The next to keel over was Netherlands roughly thirty minutes in. It took a Herculean effort on his part not to pass out earlier, but he eventually gave up and let Belgium cart him off.

Prussia would never, ever admit it, but he was worried he was going to pass out, too. Earlier he had been so excited and kind of nervous for the final competition that he had drank some beer just to calm down. Well, he had drank about five packs of beer. And had topped it off with some whiskey. So walking into the competition, he had already been slightly inebriated. Lucky for him, every time it looked like Prussia was going to throw the towel in, Gilbird would harshly peck him and he'd just keep drinking. Not only that, he had the best cheerleader ever rooting for him. Although "rooting" might have been the wrong word.

"I swear, Gilbert, if you pass out now I will smash you over the head so hard with this frying pan that you won't even remember your own name!" Hungary threatened, waving her frying pan around threateningly.

Prussia blearily stared at her for a few long moments before he nodded with conviction and raised a mug, letting out a victory cry of, " _For Narnia_!"

And then he promptly passed out.

Denmark could hardly believe it. Prussia was perfectly capable of out drinking everyone in the room. He _loved_ beer. Said his blood was made out of "awesome beer"! Denmark looked around and saw America sitting beside Sweden, chewing on some celery and staring in disbelief. She met his eyes and her eyes hardened a bit before she gave him a nod. Denmark understood _exactly_ what she was saying.

_You kick their asses, Mathias, and I will make out with you so hard and it will be awesome._

With newfound determination, Denmark began downing more beer and gave Russia the stink eye. Russia, however, seemed a bit distracted by the fact that his sister was now wobbling unsteadily.

"I willint fail, bron… broder," she slurred. "My love will… urg, all my loves will keeps me… keeps me on words annnnn… up words."

Russia frowned. "…What?"

Belarus blinked at him one last time, her eyes bleary, and then fell off her stool, out cold. She, too, was carted off.

Denmark grinned. Yes, two against one. Russia didn't stand a chance. Denmark could see that his cheeks were red and his eyes were a bit glazed over.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, North Dakota let out a grunt and South Dakota wailed.

"Oh, no, North, you can do it! I believe in you!" She frantically bounced around her brother, waving her hands and tugging on his arm, occasionally fixing his hair. "Remember what I said? I said, and you remember this, I know you do, I said, 'North, you can do it!' You can do it, North! Just like the little engine that could, but instead of climbing a mountain you are drinking beer! Don't give up, North!"

North Dakota looked at her and frowned. South Dakota put a hand to her heart and shook her head.

"Well why didn't you just _say_ you weren't feeling well in the first place?" she demanded. North Dakota just shrugged. "You and your pride! So quiet. So brave! I have coffee all ready for your hangover tomorrow and I've got Jimmy John's on speed dial. Don't worry, brother, I will take care of you!"

With that, South Dakota yanked North Dakota away from the table and he stumbled silently after his still-chatting sister, leaving Denmark sitting there with Russia.

Of course, it was at that exact moment that Denmark realized his head was swimming and he couldn't see straight anymore. Damn Ireland and Scotland for making potent beer!

Both men were swaying in their seats, drunkenly glaring at each other as they continued to down their alcohol. Russia had begun to hiccup and Denmark was wailing (or singing, as he insisted) while he waved his mug around, sloshing beer over the sides.

" _Mester Jakob, Mester Jakob, sover du? Sover duuuuuu?_ " he crooned, clumsily moving to stand on the table.

"He's ruining my song!" France wailed as he threw his arms around England.

England shoved him off angrily. "Come off it, you git! Get your filthy French hands off of me!"

The two began to tussle a bit while Denmark kept singing. He didn't realize, however, that his singing was driving a very drunk Russia up a wall.

"Stop it! Stop your singing!" Russia pleaded.

Denmark either ignored him or, more likely, didn't hear him over his own voice. " _Hører du ej klokken_! _Hører du ej klokken_!"

"Stop!" Russia wailed, pressing his hands over his ears. "Make it stop, please!"

" _Ringe tolv_! _Ringe toooooooolv_!" Denmark grinned and Russia relaxed a bit, happy the song was apparently over. Unfortunately for him, this was not to be. "OOOOOOH, _Mester Jakob, Mester Jakob, sover du? Sover duuuuuu?_ "

"I GIVE UP!" Russia shouted, shoving his mug off the table. "I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE! I CAN'T—"

Russia then passed out and was dragged off. Denmark belated realized he had won and began to shout happily in slurred Danish, stumbling off the table with some help from Sweden, who had realized that his neighbor would likely fall to his death otherwise.

"You did it!" America cheered, giving him a hug as Sweden pried the mug from Denmark's hands. "You won!"

" _Ja_?"

" _Ja_!"

Denmark grinned and posed with drunken heroism. "D-don't you fret, my love! I will be worthy of this… _hiccup_ , this victory! I will get you all the… the hamburgers and fries you can… _hiccup_ , stomach!"

America turned a bit green at the mention of hamburgers and fries, but she did her best not to ralph all over him. "Oh, my hero!"

She hurriedly ushered him away and South Korea was busy congratulating Team Awesome for their victory. Everyone was planning on staying the night at a nearby hotel before they'd all head home sometime tomorrow.

* * *

Canada was moping the next day. His brilliant, albeit insane, plan to rid America of that stupid jerkface Denmark hadn't worked. And now his simpleton little sister was stuck with that incompetent dimwit. He was a failure as a good older brother.

"Well aren't you just a little ball of sunshine?"

Canada looked up, glaring furiously as Denmark sat down next to him and stretched his legs out. He was eating some kind of sandwich and was sipping a mug of coffee to cure his hangover. They were both sitting on a curb just outside the stadium in Nashville.

"You came to gloat, eh?" Canada huffed. "Just because you won doesn't mean I won't whip your ass four ways to—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, who said anything about gloating? I was just coming to talk."

"Shouldn't you be off violating my little sister?"

"In a moment. Sve just offered to make baby furniture for us and now they're both giggling about cribs and stuff, so I've got some time."

They both became quiet for a few moments before Denmark sighed.

"So, what was the plan, exactly? Have those guys beat me publically? Were you just going to let Russia throw America over his shoulder and run off to Moscow with her? Or maybe let Belarus let our kid play with knives? Seriously, what were you going to do if I _did_ lose?"

Canada blanched because the stupid fuckface was right. Stupid fuckface.

"Listen, man, you don't have to like me or anything, but please don't pull this kind of shit again." Denmark sighed. "Honestly you don't have anything you need to be worried about. America already sent spies to keep an eye on me."

Canada raised an eyebrow. "She did?! While you two were dating?!"

"Yep." Denmark rolled his eyes. "I'm guessing she wanted to make sure I wasn't some psycho who was going to overthrow her government or work alongside communists or something. I just told my people to ignore the American spies. I've got nothing to hide. I kind of think it's adorable, actually."

"Does she know you know she's spying on you?"

"Don't know, don't care." Denmark shrugged. "But I do know that she makes me happy and I make her happy. And dude, seriously, maybe you should find someone who makes you happy."

Canada groaned and rubbed his temples. "Fine. I still don't like you, but fine. Obviously my sister does and who am I to tell her no? Not that she'd listen to me, but whatever. Go have babies and cuddle and play with axes or whatever it is you two do."

Denmark stood up and smiled, clapping Canada on the back. "Thanks, man. See you around."

After Denmark had left, Canada kind of sat there by himself for a few minutes, thinking over how he was going to try and quell the impulse to maul Denmark whenever he'd see him and America together.

That's when a shadow fell over him and he looked up, blinking, to see Belarus standing there with a stern look on her face. Canada had the presence of mind to squirm a bit nervously as she eyed him.

"You are a very diabolical person," she finally said with a small nod. "It is even more effective because of your unassuming boyish face and quiet presence. You would make an excellent killer."

Canada shifted a bit nervously. Where was she going with this?

"You have my respect and my phone number." Belarus shoved a piece of paper at him and Canada fumbled with it before he went back to staring at her. "You may call me tomorrow at a reasonable time. Not midday, as that is when I eat, and not too early in the morning or too late at night. If you call me at these inappropriate times, I will end all communication with you. You may set up a date with me at a place that is not stupid, gaudy, vegetarian or disgusting. If I like our date, we may go on more after that. Have a nice day, Canada."

She turned and left, leaving Canada to sit there and blink owlishly after her, then blink down at the phone number she'd given him.

Well. Maybe this whole thing wasn't such a waste after all.


End file.
